


Loud and Clear

by Aliea



Series: Message Recived [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Angst, Drug Abuse, Frottage, Haphephobia, John-centric, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Mention of torture, Sherlock-centric, So much angst, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Talk of Rape, Therapy, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-07-27 16:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 83
Words: 45,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7625557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliea/pseuds/Aliea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock returns after his fall, a shadow of who he was.</p><p>John is lost, a shell of his former self.</p><p>Can these two men reconnect and heal the other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlwaysJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/gifts).



> A continuation of Message Recived at, go read that first!
> 
> Short chapters, dont expect longer ones. Chapters will be posted as and when I write them, so could get a few in one day then not one for days for which I will apologies for now ;)
> 
> Lots of angst and hopefully a little fluff here and there.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

The doors swung hard hitting the walls, interupting the silence for a moment before a long suffering sigh escaped the man waiting at the end of the hall.

"Really Sherlock? Couldn't you at least of seen a barber on your travels?"

"Where is he?"

"Resting. He...he overdosed."

Sherlock’s legs gave out. He has been awake for the last three day, the last twenty-four had been hell as he returned to London, his fear for John overriding everything. 

Mycroft was at Sherlock’s side instantly, holding his brother up. 

"Easy brother mine." 

"What else?" Sherlock asked as Mycroft lowered him to a seat.

"He slit his wrist."

"Oh." Once seated he let his head fall foward as he tries to process. "I dont understand. He...I thought he... he was fine!"

"No, you got snippets of his life, a small amount of information about what was going on."

"You said you would watch him!"

"And I did, otherwise you wouldn't be here and neither would John."

He felt sick, he was exhusted and his head was killing him.

"He hasn't woken yet. You should get some rest...a shower, shave, even a hair cut."

"Maybe send your personal stylist if my looks offend you so much." He looks up at his brother a smirk on his face. "But then I dont really like the whole constipated look."

Mycroft sighs as he shakes his said. "That was rather sad little brother, seriously get some sleep, hopefully it will improve your wit."

Sherlock watches as Mycroft gets his things together.

"Where are going?"

"I have things to do Sherlock."

"What about John?" Mycroft looks at him and laughs slightly.

"You are here now Sherlock, he is your friend."

"He thinks I am dead."

"Yes, hence the mess we currently find ourselves in. Look after him, take him home and fix it!"

"Why are you so mad?"

"Why? Because he had a chance Sherlock, he was happy, could have even moved on, but you refused to close the account!"

"He never called!" Sherlock tried to defend.

"He called every day!" Mycroft hit his umbrella to the ground in frustration. "He would listen to your voice, then hang up!"

Sherlock stared wide eyed at his brother.

"He told you he did that. That he just rang to hear your voice, but you didnt listen! You where so caught up with wanting a message that you never really listened to them! He...he..." Mycroft shook his head, his eyes closing. "I wont say it for him, but you know how he feels, now sort it!"

With that Mycroft left leaving a Sherlock who had nothing but the ripped and worn clothes he had on his back and a very ill and damaged John in the room just behind him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Waking for John was never an easy thing. The body became stiff in the night, meaning when he woke it could take a few minutes to stretch out his shoulder, his damn leg, his back, his neck. No waking was never a pleasant experience and since Sherlock’s fall it had only gotten worse because now it normally included a hangover.

However, waking after an overdose and slit wrists was not an experience he ever thought he would face, afterall he thought he would die, wanted to die because he just couldn't anymore. Couldn't function, couldn't feel, couldn't human. 

He had been walking around in a skin that no longer belonged to him, that no long felt right. Everything was wrong and he wanted out.

His thoughts as he had slit his wrist had been people were bound to think his suicide was because of Sherlock, because how could John function without his great friend Sherlock Holmes.

Yes, Sherlock had some part to play but he was not the main reason. John had been suicidal when he had been sent home after being injured, it was a part of his character. He wasnt one to sit, do nothing, live a shit nine to five life, he needed action, danger, adventure. Sherlock had fed that side of him and in the year and half since Sherlock had gone his life ment nothing.

So waking up, finding himself attached to monitors, IV bags and very much alive was by far the worse way he had ever woken.

Until.

"John?"


	3. Chapter 3

His first sight of his friend had hit Sherlock hard. John had lost weight, his skin was pale, his hair now more grey than gold, bandages wrapped around each wrist and IV lines attached to his inner elbow on both arms.

Sitting down hard on the chair next to the bed Sherlock just let himself look, let himself soak in the man before him, because no matter what state he was in he was still John Watson.

Hours passed, the nursing staff had insisted that he shower. While Mycroft had one of his men drop-off a suit and his coat as well as a shaving kit.

The shower had been refreshing and as he shaved away his months old beard he really couldn't belive how much he had changed. It had been so long since he had been able to really look at himself, the last had been over a year ago, when he had to sew up a cut on his forehead. Since then he had recived a few more cuts but most were superficial and had healed without aid, some were a little deeper and had caused scaring. He also looked thinner, his normally pale skin more grey than anything, but that he put down to stress and tiredness. As for his hair, it was longer than he liked, but after a good wash he had been able to tame it a little.

Now he sat waiting.

John would wake soon. 

John would wake soon, to find he failed.

John would wake soon, to find himself restrained to a bed.

John would wake soon, to find Sherlock alive.

John woke up. 

A soft moan escaped the mans lips, yet he kept his eyes closed, kept them tightly shut against the reality of waking.

"John?" Sherlock tried, his voice soft, gentle. It caused John to still, his eyes fluttering slightly yet not opening.

"John?" Sherlock tried again his hand lifting yet he couldn't bring himself to touch, in fact he hadn't even tried until that moment, but his hand just hovered over John’s before dropping.

"I've finally lost it." John whispered, his eyes still closed.

"No John."

John turned his head to Sherlock and his deep blues opened slightly.

"Remind me never to take anything you have hidden in the flat again."

It was Sherlock’s time to still. This he hadnt been told, he had thought sleeping pills, painkillers, not class A drugs.

"John, what was it?"

"Heroine...under the floorboards by the fireplace." John shrugged, the movement bring his attention to his restraints. "Well fuck."

"John, why?"

"Why?" He looked up from his restraints to glare at Sherlock. "Because the man I fucking love Killed Himself!!" 

With that John started to fight against what held him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I would put that, yes I know John is very OOC in this. I normally have John as the strong one of the two, not so much in this. So bare with, because this is going to be a journey for both our men and it wont be easy x x


	4. Chapter 4

So this was what it was like to finally be pushed over the edge. For your mind to finally snap, to create illusions so perfect, so detailed that it was hard to believe that what was before him wasn't real, so he didn't even fight it. Sherlock was there, sat in a suit, looking not exactly perfect, but he was there, he was there and John was furious.

"Let me out of these fucking things!" He demanded pulling at the restraints.

"John, please-" 

"No, of course you wont. Fine... HEY!" John suddenly shouted, not caring about his dry throat, his beating headache or the pain in his wrists as he continued to pull at the restraints, he wanted out, he wanted to go home, he wanted to fucking punch Sherlock square in the nose.

"John." Sherlock stood his hand once again hovering but not touching, but then he wouldn't touch, because he wasnt real.

The door opened as Sherlock's hand got closer and in entered a nurse.

"Hello John, it's good to see you awake."

"Take these off." He hissed, not caring for the sweetness rolling off the nurse, or for her concerned eyes, or gentle nature. He wanted out! "Also get me discharge papers."

"John, you are being held under the mental health act." This was Sherlock, causing John to growl.

"Shut up." He hissed.

"Mr Holmes is right John, you are being held against your consent." The nurse was taking his vitals, noting them down on a tablet. "Atleast until you can be seen by the mental health doctor."

John had frozen as the nurse talked his eyes looking straight ahead. She had acknowledged Sherlock, she had interacted with the both of them. 

Breathing became hard all of a sudden.

"John?" Sherlock again, his voice concerned.

"John, you need to breath slow and steady for me." Ordered the nurse as she placed the tablet down, her recording of his vitals forgotten. "Why are you panicking John?"

John turned to Sherlock.

"You're here."


	5. Chapter 5

 

Hours pass. 

Sherlock tries to talk, tries to make John listen, but John has shut down.

Running his finger through his hair for the hundredth time, Sherlock pulls off his jacket, throws it over the back of his chair and continues his pacing.

In the hours since John had woken, five nurses, one doctor and one phycologist had visted. John had only spoken to them, one word answers in a dead emotionless voice. His normally vivid blue eyes had darkened to almost black pools, closing of all doors to his feelings, giving nothing away.

John had always been an inigma to Sherlock, yes he could read him, read his actions, his past days activities his intentions for the next few, yet John always surprised him, always did something he could not forsee or understand. But this, this silence, this total shut down of everything, he understood. After all he had become a master at hiding his feeling, his thoughts, his wants, his needs. 

But seeing John this way, having him there, right there just a few feet away, but unable to reach him was tearing Sherlock apart.

Stopping his pacing he stood at the end of John's bed. John was awake, his eyes open, his head turned to the side as he just stared at the wall not giving any attention to Sherlock.

Licking his lips, Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket. After a few seconds he switch on his speaker and waited. 

_"I hate you...I...for fuck sake!" Clear crying heard. "You fucking bastard! You jumped, you...you...you're dead! I saw it, you made me...how? How could you do that! Make me stand there, listen to...I hate you! Right now at this very second I really really hate you._

_._

 

_._

 

_._

 

_._

 

_Damn it Sherlock."_

Sherlock watched as John's fists clenched, as his eyes blinked in reaction rather than automatically, as his breath caught as the sound of his own voice filled the room.

"This is how you feel right now?" Sherlock asked, not hoping for an answer but needing one. He needed John, had always needed him, and this silence after nearly two years was more than he could stand.

"John...I got every single one, listened to all of them, repeatedly. They kept me going, kept me on track, made me want to come home faster." John turned then, his eyes still black, still dead, but he was looking at Sherlock.

"John-"

"Leave." John whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

John felt...dead. it was a strange feeling, as though his body was not real, as though his thoughts had stopped completely, as though the steady beat of his heart was nothing but a memory. 

Sherlock stood at the end of his bed, their eyes finally locked yet John felt nothing.

"Leave." He repeated, part of him marveling in the fact that he could even talk, after all he was dead inside.

"John, please." Sherlock looked on the verg of tears, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, his hands shook, his chest heaved. "Please don't make-"

"Make you watch as I die? Make you listen as I leave my note, make you feel as though your heart has been ripped from your chest. Make you what Sherlock?"

"Leave." Sherlock repeated. "Make me do all that, all of what I did to you, but please dont make me leave."

John continued to stare, his breathing slow and steady. He was at a cross roads, make Sherlock leave or let him stay. He knew what the easiest move was, let him stay, forgive him. But if he did that then John was sure they would never get pass it all, never be able to have a future because John would never forgive him, not fully. So best to end it now.

"Leave." John repeated for the third time. "I can not get up and make you." He lifted his wrists as much as he could, the restraints only giving him the smallest of movements to prove his point.

"So leave because I ask it of you."

He watches as his words cause Sherlock to first step back then lift his hands as though to reach out to John before lowering them again. The mans face, normally so closed off showed every emotion, showed his fear, his pain, his anger, his heart ache. John in return showed nothing.

"I...John...." Fingers ran through curls, pulled slightly before gripping the edge of the hospital bed causing his knuckles to go white. "I'll be at home then."

"No. No you wont. Or if you are then I wont be...infact yes. Return to Bakerstreet, but have my stuff packed and stored. Afterall I think I may be sectioned by the end of the day."


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock stayed. Or rather he stayed in the hall, sat on the chair outside John's room and just waited.

The Phycologist had returned half an hour ago and had not left. Sherlock was unsure to the meaning of this, if the longer she stayed the more likely John would be section or if the longer she stayed the more like John will be free to leave by the end of the day.

As it was, she was with John for fourty minutes. As she opened the door she turned to Sherlock then looked back into the room.

"He is still here." She said as Sherlock stood yet made no move to go into the room.

"Fine." He heard John say before the doctor closed the door and turned to Sherlock fully.

"John is being sectioned under the mental health act. He has agreed to this, but even without his concent he would be held." She looked down at the file she held for a moment. "John has requested one thing. He wishes for you to remain his next of kin, yet has made it clear you are to have no contact with him for the foreseeable future."

Sherlock sat before his legs gave out.

The phycologist sat next to him, instructing him to lower his head and concentrate on his breathing.

"Easy Mr Holmes." She tried to reassure with a hand to his arm. "John is in a very unstable state. He has shut himself so far down that his reactions are that of someone only willing to protect themsleves."

"That is not John." Sherlock gets out as he concentrates on his breathing.

"I know, an army doctor is not someone to put themselves first. But there is more. John has just told me he feels as though he has succeeded in killing himself. He feels dead, he has no need for anything, he has no need to eat or drink, he can not even feel the pain of his wrists. I worry for him now because if what I have seen today is correct then John will just let himself waste away."

Sherlock sat up slowly till his head leant against the wall. 

"You don't think me staying away is a good thing." He says as though it was as true as the sun rising or setting.

"No, you have triggered all this and I believe you can help bring him out. But not right away. So for now he is being transferred to a hospital outside of London, it is a high security hospital. It is located in a old manor house and it is more like a home than what you see around you now."

"That is not funded on the NHS."

"No." She looked down at the file again. "John is being funded privately, hence my presence."

"Mycroft."

"Yes. He has said no treatment is to be left aside because of money, all funds needed to help John will be given without question."

Sherlock nodded, this was good, but it still hurt.

"I am recommending you stay away for three months. In that time I can try to build upon what little foundations are left in John's mind and then hopefully I will be able to reintroduce you."

Sherlock nodded again, what else could he do? He had lost John in a way he never imagined and because of that Moriarty had won once again, because Sherlock’s heart was thoroughly burnt.


	8. Chapter 8

The first message left was after three weeks of nothing.

Sherlock had returned to Bakerstreet, to a flat he hardly recognised. John had destroyed it, Mrs Hudson had explained  (after getting over her initial shook of Sherlock not being dead) that John had been so very ill, so very depressed since Sherlock had left. She had tried to keep ontop of the house but John refused her help and she was only the landlady after all.

However upon opening the door to his home Sherlock knew that most of the damage done had happened on the night John ODed. Blood still covered the floor where John had slit his wrist, the needle he had used next to the hospital issue knife, again blood covering the blade.

Within the hour Mycroft had a cleaning crew in, along with Beth, or was it Angela, he didn't really care. But with her help and Sherlock barking orders, the flat was returned to its former glory.

Time after that moved in spits and spurts for Sherlock. Some days the hours seemed to slip through his fingers, other days it seemed as though the hours lasted a year each.

Most days found him lying on the sofa, hands clasped beneath his chin as he wondered the halls of his mind palace. He tried to sort through his thought and feelings with regards to John.

John had finally said that he loved Sherlock, yet it was said in a way that left Sherlock with no doubt to how John felt now. John didn't want to love him, yet he did and it had gotten to a point that caused John to do what he had done. Sherlock didn't know what was worse, having John not love him or having John love him so much that he felt the only solution was to join Sherlock in death.

With a sigh Sherlock lowered his hands and slowly opened his eyes. The sun was setting casting the flat into shadows yet adding a golden light that Sherlock hated, it reminded him too much of golden hair and blue eyes.

Growling he stood and walked to the windows pulling the curtains closed, blocking the light and delving the flat into darkness.

Turning he went to head into the kitchen when he noted his phone flashing with a missed message. Picking the phone up he inputted the passcode then froze at the notification.

_*You have one new voicemail.*_

With shaking hands he hit the notification and held the phone to his ear as it dialled.

 

***You have one new message. Message received TODAY at 4:23 pm***

"So they want me to talk. No idea what I am to talk about but here I am talking." A sigh. "I don't know what this is accomplish." This clearly not to Sherlock but to whoever is with John.

"Trust the process John."

"Fine...right, so I need to tell you something about what I've been doing. I have a list, they gave me a list to choose from because I don't really care about any of this. Right, okay, so I've been in the garden, planted a rose bush....there that is something I guess. Not very exciting, but apparently I'm to make sure this plant grows, that it flowers, I don't really understand how that is to help anything."

Another sigh.

"Don't ever answer when I call Sherlock, just let me do this, let me....this I'm use to.

.

.

.

"Happy?"

***End of messages, to return the call press 1, to save press 2 to delete press 3.***

Sherlock pressed two not waiting for the confirmation that the message had been saved as he lowered the phone. Staring out into the darkness of the flat he felt tears fall down his face. He missed John, missed his voice, had wanted to here anything from him. But the message only served as a reminder of how damaged John was, he sounded dead, sounded empty, useless, defeated. Closing his eyes he resolved himself to the fact that over the next few months this would be all the contact he had with John, these messages, these snippets of what was happening in the life of John Watson, he had done it for nearly two years, he could do it again.


	9. Chapter 9

The house was a grand, stylish affair. With large windows, tall ceilings, a warm interior and stunning gardens. It didnt look like a hospital, didn't smell like one or even sound like one. The staff were dressed in normal clothing, only a lanyard badge giving away that they where indeed staff. The patiants however where easier to spot, most not even choosing to change out of their sleep clothes, or if they did it was straight into clean sleeping clothes.

John didn't care what he wore, a staff member would choose his clothes and he would put them on without a thought. They would also get him to wash, to brush his teeth, his hair. But seriously he would just like to sit and stare at the wall.

"John are you listening?" 

Ah, yes, listening that was something he really could do without, but his therapist had learnt early on how to change her voice to catch his attention, something he felt he should despise her for yet he didnt.

"Not really." He replied, moving his eyes to look at her.

"I was wounder if you would like to leave Sherlock another message."

"Why? What is the point? He doesn't listen to them."

"Yes he does John, remeber we talked aboit this. Sherlock is alive, he always has been and he has recived every message you have ever left him."

"Right." John frowned slight. "Sherlock is alive."

"Yes. Would you like to tell him about your roses?"

"They died." John shrugged. "Why should he care about that?"

"It isn't about Sherlock, John, it is about you."

"I don't care about the roses." 

"What do you care about?"

"Not a lot." John shrugged, the movement reminding him of the IV line attached to his arm. He refused all drink and food and so fluids where constantly attached to him and a feeding tube had been forced into him. He had pulled it out serval times, same with the IV line, but they always made sure to put it back.

"I don't care...nothing bothers me, so why keep this attached to me? Why force food into me? Just let me waste away, I wont be missed."

"Sherlock will miss you?"

John suddenly gowled, it was his first sign of having a reaction to anything.

"Sherlock doesn't care!" He hissed. He saw the reaction to his emotional reaction on his therapists face, her eyes widened slightly and she wrote for a while.

"Sherlock does care, he has always cared."

"No." John shook his head. "He doesn't. He jumped, he killed himself, he left me..." His voice caught and for the first time in weeks tears stung his eyes. "He left...he died...he...he...lied to me...all this time it was a lie!"

John felt the tears run hot trails down his cheeks, he left them, let them dry only to be replaced by more tears.

It would seem the damn had been broken.


	10. Chapter 10

The light on his phone flashed, it had been flashing for a while now, it taunted him, deemed him a coward every time the blue light lit up letting him know he had a message. 

It was true though, he was a coward, a man who couldn't bring himself to listen as voicemail after voicemail was left.

So far today five messages had been left, two of which he had listen to. 

John was awake, that was how Sherlock saw it. Since returning John had been gone, asleep, hiding, but now he was back and very much awake and very very angry.

The two messages he had listened to had involved a lot of shouting, cursing, crying and just John getting across just how he was feeling at this moment in time. So when the third message was left he found himself unable to listen, to hear what John needed to tell him, to listen to the pain in his friends voice, the heartache in his words.

The phone lit up fully once again as an incoming call came through. Picking it up he stared at the number, knowing it belonged to the phone John was using.

 _"Don't answer when I call."_ John had said, he had told Sherlock he couldn't talk to him directly and so Sherlock had respected that and not answered.

Not this time.

"Hello?"

"I..."

"John?"

Silence.

"I haven't listened to the last three messages yet, I will but I...John? John please talk."

"Mr Holmes?" Sherlock eyes closed as a female voice answered.

"Yes."

"Mr Holmes, John has invited you to come an see him in two weeks time. Will you be able to make it?"

"Yes! Yes, when?"

"Tuesday 28th at 2pm?"

"I'll be there, I'll...I'm sorry, tell him I'm sorry."

"We will go through all this when you visit Mr Holmes."

"Right, of course, thank you."

"Thank you Mr Holmes, we look forward to your visit." The line went dead.

Lowering the phone he looked at the screen then dialled his voice mail.


	11. Chapter 11

John paced.

He had gone form not moving, to constantly being on the move. He felt like his nerves where on fire, or being stimulated by electricity and no matter what he did he just couldn't stop moving.

"You're nervous." His therapist said (he really needed to remember her name, but he just couldn't.)

"He's on his way."

"Yes." She glanced at her watch. "He could even be here now."

John paused at this, his eyes going to the door. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and all a sudden he just couldn't.

"Tell him to leave." He whispered as he started to back away from the door.

"John." The woman stood, she slowly made her way over to him, but never got too close. He had a protective distance he liked others to stay out, she knew this, she respected this, had she told Sherlock though? Had she told how he hated to be touched? How he hated anyone to be too close? How he hated to be stared at? Had she told the man that would be entering this room in minutes how he hated all of it?

"Sherlock doesn't know, he doesn't understand."

"What doesn't he understand?" She asked gently, his eyes finally going to her brown ones.

"He...I'm not the same. He is used to someone strong, someone willing to fight, to run into the danger not away from it...I cant...I-" A knock on the door stopped him. Eyes wide he started to look around, there was only one door in or our, the room he was in was on the second floor and he knew the windows didn't open wide enough for him to even get his head out of. He was stuck, trapped, he needed to get out!

"John, breath, just breath." Another knock. "Just a moment!" She called as she took another step towards John, her hands raised to show she was not going to touch. "Focus on my voice John, just my voice. You don't have to do anything, you don't have to see Sherlock, to talk to anyone other than me."

Looking to the door he fought a battle within himself. On the other side was Sherlock, the man that had...no, this wasn't Sherlock's fault, none of this was. He didn't know, he didn't know how John felt, because John was a coward, John hide his true feelings, kept them to himself, kept them so deeply locked away that he had even started to believe that he didn't love Sherlock. But of course it was all a lie, John was totally in love with Sherlock, it had just taken Sherlock to jump to fully admit it.

"Let him in."

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

The journey to the hospital was dull. He had been given the choice of taking the train or having one of Mycroft's cars take him. He chose the car, he wished he had choosen the train.

the drive out of London wasslow,,the traffic tedious, but they had left with plenty of time so there would be no chance of missing the appointment.

Once out of London the pace kicked up as did Sherlock's nerves. He was anxious to see John again, to talk to him, to try and explain, to apologise. But this was what made the journey tedious, the time alone caused him to over think, to build up scenarios in his mind. He thought of John rejecting him, and of diffrent ways for it to happen.

So by the time they reached the hospital Sherlock found himself in a full blown panic attack.

"Mr Holmes?" The driver had gotten out of the car and was now crouched at the open passage side door. "What do you need sir?"

He knew what helped, what had always helped, what kept him grounded. 

"John..." he forced out as he lent forward, hands cluching at his hair as he tried to breath. "John...please..."


	13. Chapter 13

John forwned as the door opened.

"Jackson?" His therapist asked.

"Sorry Cathy, Mr Holmes is here but he's experiencing a rather bad panic attack."

John was moving before he even knew his brain had ordered his feet to move.

"Where?" He asked as he headed out the door, Cathy raising a hand to Jackson to prevent him from stopping John.

"Err car park, he hasn't gotten out of the car yet."

John ran. 

As he reached the main entrance he was forced to stop as Cathy unlocked the doors with her pass. When the final door opened he was running again, this time straight to the sleek black car that Mycroft had obviously provided. 

Coming to a stop at the open back door he took in the man inside, curls a mess, sweat beading on his forehead and running down his neck, skin pale almost grey as the panic attack took control.

"Sherlock?" 

Crystal eyes turned to him, mostly blue at that moment, but also blood shot with tears.

"John...oh god..." Hitching breaths caused Sherlock to spam slightly causing more tears and more clenching of fists.

John watched, Sherlock was there, he was real (this he had to keep on repeating in his mind) he was crying, panicking and clearly distressed by the whole situation. 

John felt something slip into place.

For the first time in weeks, since before his suicide attempt, since way before Christmas, he felt something click. His need to care, to help, returned and with it his warmth and compassion to anyone in distress. 

But there was more.

Sherlock was, without doubt, the love of his life, he needed to take care of him, to help him in anyway possible and right now Sherlock needed grounding.

"William." John whispered causing a visible reaction in Sherlock as he went totally still. "Don't stop breathing Sherlock."

Sherlock sucked in a lung full of air before turning to look at John fully.

"Just...keep breathing and when you're ready, come out of the car."

It took ten minutes, but in the end Sherlock finally stepped out of the car.


	14. Chapter 14

Sherlock felt drained, he was hot, his hair stuck to his neck and forehead and even though his breathing had evened out he still felt dizzy.

"Easy." A woman (he looked at her a moment, John's therapists, his mind slowly provided) was stood right next to him watching him closely. "We should go in."

"Yes." This was John, stood a good distance away, but still there. "He needs a milky tea with a hell of a lot of sugar."

"John." Sherlock so wanted to reach out, to touch, why hadn't they touched yet? He had been back nearly two months and he needed to touch. He slowly lifted his hand. "John pl-" 

John flinched, he was still over five feet away from Sherlock, yet just the invitation to touch shook him.

"John is adverse to touch Sherlock, I told you this." 

"Right." He lowered his hand, his fingers fidgeting before he pushed them into his coat pocket. His brain felt foggy, dull, slow. But his emotions were high, exposed and beyond sensitive. He felt totally exposed, each and every emotion running over his face for everyone to see no matter how hard he tried to hide.

When they made it into the building, they offered to take his coat, he refused, they offered to take his scarf again he refused. He needed them.

Tea was delivered once they all sat, only John had water, in a plastic cup, that for some reason Sherlock couldn't help but focus on. 

Silence rained, it seeped into the room as John watched Sherlock, as the therapist watched John and Sherlock watched as condensation built on the side of the plastic cup and slowly dripped down into the table.

This was a mistake.

"No." John suddenly said causing Sherlock to look at him. "No, it is not."

"What?" Sherlock asked with a frown.

"You said 'this was a mistake'"

"Oh." He hadn't realised he had said that out loud.

"Thank you for coming."

"Right." Sherlock nodded, he was still trying to place his mask back into place, but John's blues eyes seemed to see everything as they watch him and each time he thought he had succeeded, John brushed it away keeping him bare.

"Stop it." He finally said, turning away from John.

"John, you had-"

"You need to leave." John said causing Sherlock’s heart to stop, but he stood all the same. "Not you Sherlock."

Sherlock sank back down into the chair his eyes closing in relief.

"Okay, I'll right next door if you need anyhing." The therapist left through the door leaving the two of them totally alone.


	15. Chapter 15

John watched Sherlock as the therapist left, the click of the door closing echoing slightly in the silence.

Sherlock was sat with his head lowered, tea still steaming in his hands, he hadn't even taken a sip of it yet.

"Drink your tea Sherlock." John said, his voice steady, commanding. 

The cup slowly made it's ways to Sherlock’s lips and with a sigh Sherlock took a tentative sip, his eyes closing briefly. John knew Sherlock always liked his tea heavily laced with sugar but normally kept his milk to minimum. However the combination of sugar and milk would help with weakness Sherlock would be feeling after his ordeal.

"Always looking after me." Sherlock said after drinking half the tea.

"Habit." John shrugged. "Even after nearly two years."

Sherlock’s eyes flashed to his, his defences were still down, his eyes overly expressive, and right now he saw guilt and sadness.

"I..." he lowered his eyes again and let out a long breath. "You were ment to be safe."

"Right." John nodded slowly, his eyes looking down at his covered wrists. He hated wearing anything that showed his wrists, that showed the long scars going up each one. "Shame I could t fight against myself."

"John." John looked up as Sherlock placed the now empty mug on the small coffee table between them. "I should have cancelled the phone."

"No!" John almost shouted watching as Sherlock flinched. "No...I...I  needed that! I wouldn't have lasted," he swollowed hard before continuing. "It helped, it kept apart of you...alive."

John fell silent. Saying that to someone who was very much alive and before him was surreal, it sat heavily on the part of John that was still very much mourning the man sat before him.

"Shit." John stood, turned from Sherlock and walked to the window over look the gardens. Anger was building again, the one emotion that seemed to rule everything since he had started to feel again. It could be overwhelming at times, debilitating to the point he had, shamefully, been sedated. Cathy had been working hard to help him control it, to shut it down or talk it through, at times though he just needed to hit something, anything, hence the new punching bag in the corner.

"Damn it Sherlock." He finally said, turning back to him. "I held a gun between my lips just weeks after you jumped, Mycroft took it away. I tried to drink myself into oblivion, Mycroft had me attend rehab, I stated drinking again the moment I got out, the silence too much. But I tried, I dated, but you know that bit...did you know about rehab?"

"No." Sherlock whispered.

"No, because I never told you. But you knew about Harris."

"You never said his name."

"Harris...he...he made the silence bareable but only slightly." John sighed. Harris had been a way out, he knew that and he had tried, god he had tried, but just one call, one night of weekness of hearing Sherlock’s voice had undone it all.

"You answered once." 

Sherlock nodded. "I had turned it on to see if you had...as I went to dial you called, timing."

"You could have told me."

"No John. They would have known."

"I was an idiot for not realising."

"You were mourning John, your thought process not right. You can be forgiven for not realising. As for me, I was stupid. But I couldn't risk them knowing or finding out because they would have gotten to you before I could have."

"Who?"

"I left to do one thing and one thing only. Destroyed Moriarty’s network to keep you, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade safe."

"You could have taken me with you." John whispered, his anger suddenly draining away, with it his strength. He had been trying for too long to stay strong, he had enough.


	16. Chapter 16

Sherlock saw it happening, the colour drained from John's face, his shoulders slumped and Sherlock found himself on his feet and across the room as John's legs gave out. Grabbing John around the waist he pulled the smaller man against him. John's head sagged against his chest, his arms lifeless at his sides, his legs not even trying to keep him upright, so Sherlock did the only thing he could, he slowly sank to the floor, taking John with him.

"I have you." He whispered, even as John's eyes rolled up and he lost consciousness. "I have you."

The door suddenly opened causing Sherlock to tighten his grip on John. They would take him, they would John back to his room.

"No." Sherlock said his eyes narrowing as the first orderly stepped forward. "Don't."

"Okay." The therapist stepped around the two orderlies. "Okay, well, he cant stay there. Let them put him on the sofa."

Sherlock knew it was the best thing to do, they couldn't stay on the floor like this, but he finally had John in his arms and he just couldn't let go. Tears came unbidden as he again tightened his grip.

"Out." The therapist said to the orderlies. "I'll call you if we need help." The two men nodded and left without a word.

Sherlock relaxed, his head lowering to bury his nose into John's hair as the tears slowly slid down his face.

"Sherlock, have you been seeing a therapist of your own?"

"No, why should I?" He asked is a small voice.

"Because from what I have seen today, you both need help." Her voice was gentle, but he wanted to scoff at her. He was fine, he was...good.

_But you have just experience a rather bad panic attack._

"Your brother has told me that you left to do some rather dangerous work. You must have gone through a lot in the time you where away. Then to come back, to have your partner-"

"John is not my partner." He saw her frown at this.

"John has made it extremely clear of his feeling towards you, I just assumed that you were together."

"No." Sherlock shook his head again. "I was stupid, I never thought, never knew that he could, did feel that way."

"Do you feel the same?" She asked as she came and sat next to the two of them, so that she was at eye level with Sherlock.

"I have loved him far longer than even I realised." She smiled at this.

"I have a proposition for you." She paused for a moment, waited for Sherlock to look at her before she continued. "Stay, as guest. We have family quarters here for when patients need extended therapy with people that mean the most to them. You both need help, and I think keeping you apart would be the worst thing I could do. John showed compassion today, it is the first time he has shown anything other than anger and guilt." She looked at John as he shifted from being unconscious to simply being asleep, something made clear as he moved in Sherlock's arms and sighed as his hand found Sherlock's coat, his fingers clenching around the material.

"I had thought that by doing as John asked was what he needed, I now see he needs you. But you need to understand that when he wakes, if you are like this still he will not react well. His phobia of touch is unlike any I have seen in any other, even in his uncaring state he reaction was violent."

Sherlock understood, he had seen the orderly with the broken arm as they had coming into the building, seen the way he had glared at John, instinctively holding his cast covered arm to himself.

As for staying, it made sense, he couldn't leave, not again, not now not ever. He needed to be where John was, always, and though he knew that was just a little not good, he really didn't care.

"Okay." Sherlock finally nodded, hoping the woman would understand he was agreeing to stay as well as agreeing to having John taken and led on the sofa.

"Okay."


	17. Chapter 17

When John woke it was instantly, one second he was lying down the next he was sat up clutching at what ever had been covering him. Eyes wide he looked around until he spotted Sherlock stood at the window but looking at John.

"Still here." John said confused.

"Yes." Sherlock nodded. "You kept my coat."

John looked down then noting that what he thought was a blanket was in fact Sherlock coat.

"Oh...sorry." he slowly let go of the coat but didnt make a move to take it off of him. 

"Your therapist, Cathy?" John nodded. "She has asked me to stay, in the family rooms. Would that be okay with you?"

John frowned. "I dont understand."

"She thinks you...we, would be better off working together."

John continued to frown as he looked down. Why? What good could come from this? Could he have Sherlock so close? Would he want him so close? The answers came easily, because it was the best thing to do, a lot of good, yes he could and yes he did.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Sherlock asked moving away from the window but kept his distance.

"Yeah, it's fine by me."

"Good...thats, good." John looked up then and though he felt like he should smile he couldnt.

"The rooms are like apartments." He said instead.

"Yes, Cathy explained. She said that if you wanted you could move into one of the bedrooms."

"Maybe...but not yet, not right away."

"Yeah, of course." Sherlock sat then, on the chair John had taken earlier. "Cathy had another appointment, she didnt want to move you to your room though and well I guess we need to talk about me staying."

"And I wouldn't let go of your coat." John muttered. "How did come to not letting go of your coat?"

He watched Sherlock as he looked from John's eyes, to his coat and back again.

"I caught you when you passed out."

"Oh." John didnt know how to feel about that. The part that hated touch was disgusted by it, hated it, wanted to run and shower as soon as possible. This was not a new occurrence, every time someone touched him he felt like this and nothing other than several showers made him feel better.

But something new came with the knowlage. Sherlock had touched him and he had missed it, he missed the first contact in nearly two years and he was...upset. 

"I know you dont like to be touched. So I apologise. But I didn't want you to hurt yourself." Sherlock slumped back in his chair. He looked tired, his emotions still on show though he had been able to cover most of them.

"Thank you." Was all John said before pulling the coat of him and standing with the heavy belstaff still in hand, Sherlock watched him but made no move to stand. "Here."

John held out the coat, he could easily just leave it in the sofa or just throw it over to him, but he kept hold of it and waited.

Sherlock studied him for a moment before standing and closing the distance between them, but not moving too close.

"As soon as I take this you will leave."

"Yes." John confirmed, he wouldn't lie. "I...need to shower."

"Right." Sherlock took a few steadying breaths before taking the coat. As soon as John let go he headed towards the door but before leaving he turned back.

"Ask Cathy about a morning meeting. We could have breakfast together...in the conservatory...if you want."

For the first time Sherlock smiled and John froze as butterflies invaded his stomache. How had he forgotten that smile?

"I look forward to it John." 

John blinked before nodding and leaving the room. He only made it a few spaces before breaking into a run, he needed to shower.


	18. Chapter 18

The door closed leaving Sherlock alone. The smile slowly left his face as he closed his eyes and turned to sit back on the chair.

That had been far harder than he thought it would be, watching John react the way he had to just the knowlage that he had been touched was heartbreaking, but John had tried, he was honest and he opened up.

"That was brilliant Sherlock." Cathy said as she walked in with a tray of coffee and a plate of what ever food they were serving in the canteen. "The fact he offered the coat-"

"I know, he also didnt go running at the first mention of being touched."

"No."

"When did it start?" He asked as he eyed the food but only took the coffee from the tray.

"About a week after coming here. It was just small reactions at first, but it soon became evident that his phobia had increased, epically when he broke one of our orderlies arm. His anger doesn't help either."

"No." Sherlock agreed. 

"Sherlock, John's recovery will take time. But so will yours."

He threw a look at her but before he had a chance to say anything she held her hands up.

"Sherlock you are not, from what I have heard, the same as you were before you left. Now I fully understand why, but with what ever happened to you it can not be good to keep it all locked away."

"Nothing happened." He grounded out.

"Okay." She surrended leaning back in her chair. "The apartment is ready. You will be able to lock the doors with the key on the tray." She nodded towards the table, he had missed the key as it was hidden by the plate of food.

"Thank you."

"I'll have your things brought to you when they arrive."

"Just remember Cathy I'm here for John. I've signed no papers. You have no reason and I do not wish for you to offer me therapy."

"I know Sherlock. But please just try to be open to what will happen over the next few day, even weeks."

"For John." He says as he stands, picking the key up. "John also asked for a morning appointment, with breakfast."

"Yes, I've already prepared it. I wont join you for breakfast but will join you after, the conservatory is a good place to have the first session. Of course me and John will continue to have our one on one sessions but he is free to do as he wishes in his free time, and you are, of course, free to leave the grounds when ever you wish."

"Can I take John?"

"Not straight away, but yes, in time he can join you."

"Right. Well thank you again Cathy." 

She smiles and walks him to the door. "The door to the apartment is the fourth on the left."

Sherlock says nothing just nods and heads towards the apartment.


	19. Chapter 19

John showered four times before finally going to bed. But he didn't sleep.

Sherlock was in the same building, under the same roof, sleeping, probably not sleeping, possibly pacing, or having a cigarette.

Kicking the covers from his legs he got up and pulled on his dressing gown. He was able to leave his room when he wished, even at night, perks of going up in his recovery, he just couldn't go outside without someone being with him.

As he walked the halls, he acknowledged the orderlies but didn't stop, knowing they would be watching him now they knew he was awake and up. Making his way down to the main floor he bypassed Cathy's office and headed straight to the apartment. Once out the door however he stopped as he raised the hand to knock at the door. Why was he here?

Lowering his hand he stared at the door. Right on the other side was the man he had missed for so long, the man he had talked to when he needed to talk, even if it was just a voicemail.

Turning he walks back to the main desk.

"Hey John." The man behind the desk says with a smile.

"Hey Mark. Can I use the phone?"

"Who are you calling?" Mark asked with a frown but picked up the phone and passed it to John. John just shrugged and dialled.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered.

"Hi." John said, fighting the urge to put the phone down.

"John?"

"Yeah, come out of the apartment."

"Okay...why?"

"I want to go for a walk outside, I need you to come with me."

"Right."

"I'm by the main desk." He hangs up pushing the phone back to Mark.

"Doors lock at eleven." Mark says looking towards the clock. It was ten thirty. 

"What about my patio door?" Sherlock's voice sounds behind him causing him to turn quickly, glad to find Sherlock not standing too close.

"Only you have the keys to those Mr Holmes." Mark answers, again with a smile. John see's Sherlock look over Mark, sees his mind working, reading the man behind the desk.

"Sherlock, this place is my home." John says causing Sherlock to look at him with startled eyes. "At least it is at this moment in time. Be nice to those that work here."

Watching Sherlock's face drop slightly he can not help but smile slightly, which in turn causing Sherlock to smile back and the butterflies once again return.

"Are you going to be warm enough in just that John? It is only February."

"I'll be fine. Come on."


	20. Chapter 20

Sherlock had been stood at the patio doors when his phone had rang. Taking one last drag of his cigarette he threw the stub outside and answered. Hearing John reply he had started moving,  grabbing his coat and heading to the door. By the time he had hung up he already had John in his sights.

Minutes later found them walking outside in the crisp night air.

"I haven't been outside at night since Christmas. I wanted to see the stars." John said after a while. They had walked away from the lights of the house, and because the hospital was set in acres of land they found the night sky to be so much clear than what they would get in London.

"Tell me about the sky in Afghanistan." Sherlock said turning to look up at the sky.

"Blue, bluer than any other sky I have seen. But at night, it came alive. The light pollution at the main base prevented you from seeing much. But if you got a night patrol you were compensated with the view of the stars. So many stars. You can see the milky way as clear as day, stretching right across the vast darkness." John stopped and pointed up. "You can see it here, just not as clearly."

Sherlock looked to where John pointed noting where the stars seemed to clusted more together in a line going across the sky. He had never really take much stock in the stars, never finding them intresting, so deleting everything about them, but this, this he would never forget.

"I used to sit in the dark, gun fire in the distance and just watch the stars." He lowered his arm and Sherlock looked down to watch him.

John continued to look up then just started to walk again without looking back at Sherlock.

"I got hurt in some god awful village, in the middle of nowhere, they didnt really have electicity so it was probably the darkest place I had ever been. I was stuck in a hut for about a week, but it had a hole in the roof so I spent most of my time just watching as the day turned to night and then back to day. I slept mostly in the day though, so come the night I could watch the moon. It was full on the fist night and as the week passed it changed, became smaller and smaller. I would imagine you watching the same moon and in that time it...it gave me comfort."

Taking in a breath he just watched John who had stopped walking, his back still to Sherlock, but he had seen the smaller mans shoulders sag as he had talked.

"John, I couldn't take you with me. I couldn't have you risk yourself, not for me, not for anyone."

"But you did." 

"I was already dead John." Sherlock took a few steps closer but John spun and took steps back, to which Sherlock stopped and raised his hands. "I wont touch, John, not until you are ready. Please trust me."

"Tell me who knew."

Sherlock's heart stuttered then started beating fast and hard in his chest.

"Mycroft, I needed someone to help plan it all. Molly helped with...she...provided the body you first saw."

"What about when I searched for a pulse."

"Me...that was me."

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

"Right." John nodded as he let out a breath. "Just umm, just stay there, dont move, dont flinch."

"Okay." Sherlock frowned but stayed still as John slowly closed the five foot gap between them.

"Wrist." John ordered then watched as Sherlock took off his glove and held his hand out.

John stopped, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at Sherlock’s wrist. He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing for a few minutes before unclasping his hands and bringing them around before him.

"You dont have to John." Sherlock’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, John was even sure he heard it shake slightly.

"I know...but stay still." John's fingers clenched and unclenched before he reached out and with practiced ease wrapped his fingers around Sherlock’s wrists and found his pulse instantly. As the point pulsed against his fingers his breath caught, the last time he had done this he had felt nothing,  but now he could feel it racing against his fingers.

Lifting his head he looked at Sherlock, his eyes almost black, ringed in silver and his breathing slight heavier than normal.

"Oh." John let go as he took a step back  "How long?"

"I dont know. Always, form the moment you entered the lab, the moment you shot the cabbie, the moment you told me to run as you held Moriarty." Sherlock slowly pulled his glove on as John replayed his words over and over in his mind. 

"Always." He finally repeted.

"Yes."

They stared at each other for a while, John wanting to reach out, to hold, to kiss...oh to kiss, but he couldn't.

"We should head back." John muttered as he just headed back towards the house without waiting to see if Sherlock followed.


	22. Chapter 22

They had walked back in silence, the time close to midnight once they returned and so they walked to the patio attached to the apartment.

Closing the sliding doors Sherlock turned to watch John as he took in the open plan sittingroom and kitchen. It was modern in design but comfortable, Sherlock had approved when he had first seen it. 

John had walked over to the table, his hand ghosting over the microscope already set up.

"You plan on staying a while." John stated as he also touched the notebooks and laptop.

"Yes, for as long as you will want me here." After pulling off his coat and gloves he made his way into the kitchen, always keeping to John's five foot circle that he placed around himself.

"Tea?" He asks as he fills the kettle.

"No, thank you." John answers as he starts to make his way to the door. "We have an early start. Breakfast is severed at around eight. I can meet you before if you want."

Sherlock forces himself to stay put, to lean against the counter and just stay. 

"That would be good John."

"Right. Well...goodnight Sherlock." John said as he opened the door, not waiting for an answer before he walked out.

"Goodnight John." Sherlock whispered as the door clicked shut.


	23. Chapter 23

It wasnt until the morning that John realise he had touch Sherlock and hadn't felt the need to shower or even wash his hands. He woke with this thought and spent a few minutes staring at his hand, waiting for the panic and unreasonable thoughts to set in. But after nearly fifteen minutes of waiting with nothing happening he pushed the covers from himself and just stared his morning routine. 

His habits had changed since staying at the hospital, he tended to stay up late and wake early. Cathy had said it was all part of his condition, that patients would go one of two ways, either sleep constantly or hardly sleep at all. So he tended to be up before the sun, so when he walked to the window to find the sun up he frowned.

Turning to his night stand he picked up his watch.

"Shit!" He swore as he saw it was nearly nine am. He was ment to meet Sherlock at eight.

Grabbing his clothes he went to the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth and having a quick wash before pulling on his clothes as he made his way to his door and headed towards the flat. Once there he knocked and waited. 

"Sherlock?" He tried as he knocked again then tried the door but found it locked.

Bitting his lower lip he turned and looked to Cathy 's office, the door was open. Making his way over he saw Cathy talking to another patient, but she clocked John instantly.

"Is everything okay John?" She asked with a smile.

"Have you seen Sherlock?"

"He's waiting for you in the conservatory. He wanted to make sure you had some breakfast for when you woke."

"Oh...right, thanks." John nodded before walking back the way he came and headed towards the conservatory. It was located at the other end of the house allowing for the early moring light to warm it.

As he entered the dinning room he made he way around the tables, taking a bit of a round about rout to keep away for the other people in the room. Reaching the conservatory he paused as he took in the scene before him.

Sherlock was pacing, phone in hand while he had another phone at his ear.

"No Lestrade...no! I wont be able to come...why? Because I'm not in London...I dont know...John...for as long as it takes...send me what you can and I'll see what I can do, but I wont be able to help any other way...you are ment to be working with some of the finest is Scotland Yard Lestrade, use them. Fine...fine...fi-" Sherlock stopped all moment and talking as he spotted John and slowly he smiled.

"I have to go...yes...yes....damn it Greg I have to go!" Sighing he lowered the phone from ear and hung up. "Sorry about that."

"He has you helping already."

"Yeah...gave me a bunch of cases the moment I got back."

"What does he want help with?"

"Young girl found strangled. Sounds like a crime of passion so I have got him to check out boyfriends, girlfriends. Apparently she had a string of people." As he spoke John couldn't help but smile as Sherlock talked at his usual hundred mile a minute.

"Sounds interesting."

"Yeah." Sherlock nodded,  a look of want on his face.

"You can go, if you want."

"Not without you." Sherlock said as the smile left his face. "I learnt the hard way what it is like to do things without you. I wont do it again."

John was stunned. The work always came first, nothing ever took Sherlock from it, until now.

"That's...good." he finally said.

"I saved you coffee, and I convinced the cook to make you something when you got here."

"Convinced?"

"Well told him that he needed to careful when it came to his affair with one of his assistants."

John laughed slightly and shook his head.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked even as he smiled.

"No, its good, this is all good." John answered as he smiled brightly, something he hadn't done in a very long time.


	24. Chapter 24

They spent breakfast in comfortable silence. Sherlock sipped at his coffee as he reviewed images Lestrade had sent while John ate a full English breakfast. Apparently the cook really did want his affair kept quiet.

Once John finished he cleared the table, leaving Sherlock’s coffee and a pot of tea and his own mug. Sherlock watched his as he walked across the dinning room, again avoiding the very few people still sat down, yet when he returned he took the chair closest to Sherlock.

"Cathy will probably be here soon." John said as he poured himself another cup of tea.

Sherlock nodded that he had heard but continued to look at the pictures a frown on his face.

"What is it?" John asked as he lent forward slightly to look at the phone.

"Brusing." Sherlock answered with a sigh. "Clear brusing where she had been strangled, but older bursing is just under it."

"Can I see?" 

Sherlock’s hand tightened on the phone, he wanted to show John, he really did, but something told him he shouldn't. The girl had clear signs of self harm, even the skin on her shoulders had old scars were she had clearly cut herself.

Looking up he pressed the button on the side of the phone, turning it off as he held John's eyes.

"Maybe later." He said quietly and hating the shuttered look that came covered John's face.

"Right." John lent back in his chair his eyes staring at the table.

A new silence settled, this one uncomfortable and full of unsaid things. For a time Sherlock found himself watching John, watching his totally unmoving form and slowly worry started to set in.

"John?" He finally tried, his hands itching to reach out but staying on his lap. "John?" 

"Hello gentlemen." Cathy came up to their table, a folder in her arms and a smile on her face. A smile that faded as she looked from Sherlock to John.

"How long has he been like this?" Concern clear in her voice as she knelt next to John, but like Sherlock did not touch.

"About ten minutes." Sherlock answered, keeping his own voice neutral.

"What happened?" 

"He wanted to see a picture that I was studying for a case."

"You refused."

"Not out right."

Cathy sighed shaking her head slightly. "John has many issues, part of him still grieves for you, part of him is dealing with withdrawal, part of him focuses a lot on keeping himself distant, but a huge part is dealing with rejection."

Sherlock closed his eyes a soft sigh leaving him. 

"You were not to know Sherlock."

"I've triggered something." He whispers.

"Yes. This is his defence. He shuts himself away, he doesn't know he does it and when he wakes he will be angry, confused and probably shut himself in his room."

"How long can this last?"

"His last episode was most of the day."

"Can I stay with him?" Sherlock asked, fighting back his emotions.

Cathy smiled softly. "Of course you can."


	25. Chapter 25

As soon as he blinked he knew what had happened. He was still sat in the conservatory, but it was dark out and he hurt from having sat still all day.

"Fuck." He hissed then just kicked out pushing the table he had ate at that morning across the room. "Fuck!" 

Standing he ignored his stiff body, his frustration and anger overtaking. 

"John?"

"Fuck off!." He growled as he turned to Sherlock. "Go back to London, back to the work and leave me the fuck alone!"

Sherlock stared at him from his seat, but said nothing more.

"John, you have missed all your medication for today. Do you think it best to take some?" Cathy had been sat in the dinning room, waiting since the sun had set for John to wake.

"No! Fuck your medication! Fuck this good damn shit hole and just leave me be!"

Looking around he sought an exit, he knew the doors to gardens would be locked so he just headed towards the large doors that exited the dinning area. As he walked he heard Sherlock talk with Cathy but he didnt know what was said, he didnt really care.

Reaching his room he threw the door open and pulled off his jumper and shirt before stepping into his shower, turning it on not caring that he still wore his trouser, shoes and socks.

As the cold water hit his skin he hissed but stayed under the spray waiting for it to heat up before leaning his forhead against the wall.

His body lossened, but with it came a new sort of pain. Cathy had warned him about missing his meds, especially the baclofen. He found it odd that even now, he still wished to try it again, to try what he had always tried to keep away from Sherlock. Closing his eyes he lifted his hands to his hair and just pulled, a moan of pain leaving his lips as his body started to shake.

"John?" Sherlock called, clearly stood in the doorway to his room.

"Go away." He whispered as tears joined the stream of water running down his face.

"I've left your meds on your table...I" He hears Sherlock sigh. "I'm sorry, for today, for yesterday, for everyday I made you feel worthless. You are not worthless, not unwanted...you are so wanted...good night John."

Hearing his door close his legs gave out causing him to fall to his knees as he kept himself pressed to the wall. Soon his tears turned to sobs and he didnt try to stop, just let himself cry till the water turned cold once again and he could no longer bare it.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Sitting back in his chair, Sherlock closed his lap top before running his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes. 

He had spent most of the evening trying to distract himself, working on a cold case Greg had sent over after the murder case they had been look at it the morning came to a head when one of the girls many boyfriends interviewed and then cracked, confessing to it all. It was, in the end, a sexual encounter gone wrong, it would seem the girl liked air restrictive sex, hence the older brusing. Unfortunately the boyfriend had pushed it too far and had killed the girl.

But with that over and the cold case not even holding his attraction he gave up trying to put John out of thoughts.

Standing he walked to the sofa and fell on it his hands coming together before the tips of his fingers press against his chin.

He lay there for a while, wondering the halls of his mind palace before he finally forced himself to stand outside John's door. Frowning at the dark wood of the door he hesitated before pushing it open. Inside the room was very much the same but with one key difference, it was darker. John's room had always been bright, it held the largest windows and it was alway sunny. Now however it was dark beyond the windows and the heavy golden curtains were slightly drawn, leaving only a single lamp to light the room.

Leaning against the now closed door, Sherlock sighed as he looked around. A version of John always joined him in this room, but not this time, this time the John of his mind palace kept away, just like the real John.

Opening his eyes he blinked a few times before swiping at the tears running into his ears and hair. 

He had royally fucked everything up and he needed to fix it. But with John still so unstable he didnt know where to start. 

Cathy.

Cathy would know, after all, this was her idea, it was just a shame that their first day hadn't gone to plan.

With that thought, he made his way to one of the two bedrooms, he would at least try to sleep. After all, even if he had an hour before the nightmares began that would be something. 

 


	27. Chapter 27

If there was one thing he hated it was being cold. He had spent so much of his life being hot that at the first chill in the air he felt it deeply. Hence the thick jumpers, cardigans, vests and shirts. He liked being warm, liked the comfort of it, the peace it gave him. 

Being cold however had the opposite effect, it made him feel lost, alone and once cold he found it hard to get warm.

John curled up on the bathroom floor, his sodden trousers causing a cold wet puddle to form around him. Tears had long ago dried, his body unable to produce any more. Pain continued to cause havoc on his nerves, causing him to twitch and shiver as it rolled through him.

He knew that on the otherside of the door lay the cure to his pain, the medication that had helped keep part of him awake, that helped him to sort through his thoughts even as they dulled him. It was a a huge contradiction really, they helped but they didn't. 

Closing his eyes he curled up more into himself as he tried to evaluate. This was the first time since Sherlock’s return that he found himself drug free and truly feeling everything in what he called real time. The drugs normally kept his emotions on the back burner and he was able to pick and choose what he wanted to look at. Now however everything just wanted his attention. His anger held center stage, followed by saddness, hurt, fear, loneliness and then joy, pure unadulterated joy. He was so happy that Sherlock was alive, so reviled to have his friend back, to have the man he had denied loving for so long back within reach, it was brilliant, but it was also terrifying. 

When he opened his eyes he moaned and slowly pushed himself up. His head pounded, but for the first time everything felt clear, but it also hurt and it was the pain that was winning. He couldn't stand it for much longer, so he stood, swaying slightly on his feet before heading to the bedroom and towards the night stand were the cure to his pain was held, but it also held the fog that would over take once he took it.

So a choice. 

Take the drugs, return to not fully feeling everything and having the pain running through his body disappear.

Or.

Dont take the drugs. Continue to think clearly, but feeling everything as it hit, and continue to feel like his nerves were being set alight every few seconds.

He stared at the pills in their tiny paper cup before picking them up, turning on his heal, walking back into the bathroom and tipping them down the toilet. 


	28. Chapter 28

Sherlock woke with a shout, his hand outstretched, eyes wide, sweat covered his body, his hair clung to his face, sheets wrapped around his legs and tears ran unchecked down his face.

The dreams had changed. He still ended up in some hell hole, still had the shit beaten from him, still had hands....but now John was there, being punched, kicked, hurt, taken.

Closing his eyes Sherlock took in deep rattling breaths as he tried to control his raging emotions. 

_John was never there, never there, never there._ He kept repeating to himself as his tears start to slow. 

When he opened his eyes he fell back onto the bed even though he knew he wouldn't back to sleep he just couldn't bring himself to get up. Getting up would involve facing another day, of facing John, facing the truth of not just his own pain but John's as well. 

He thought he could do this, but seeing John blank out like that and seeing the chaos when he woke was heartbreaking. All throughout the day Sherlock had wanted to reach out, to touch John, on his arm, his face, his hair, anywhere. But Cathy had advised against it, waking John while he was in such a state was dangerous. So Sherlock did as he was instructed and waited. When he woke, shouting at the world Sherlock had done as he had been asked, he stayed silent and just watched as John left. Cathy had said it was for the best to leave John to himself.

"I dont know if I can." Had been his answer.

Taking a breath he picked up his phone and glared as the clock showed it to three in the morning.

Today really was going to be a long day.

~.~.~.~

Two hours later a knock on the door caused him to finally jump out of bed. Almost running to the main door he quickly unlocked it and threw it open, not caring about his lack of shirt or messed up hair. He knew it was John on the otherside of the door.

They both stared. John for his part looked exhusted, his eyes were almost black in colour, his skin pale, his bare chest splochy and red in places. His still wore his jeans from the day before, they were wet and rid low on his hips. 

"You haven't taken your meds." Sherlock said first,  breaking the silence.

"No...let me in." He didnt wait for Sherlock to move just stepped forward, his arm brushing Sherlock’s chest as Sherlock stepped aside, John didn't so much as flinch.

"Take your trousers off." Sherlock ordered as he closed the door.

"Bit forward mate." John said with little mirth but did as he was instructed, while Sherlock grabbed a t-shirt and his dressing gown from the bedroom. When he returned John was stood naked in the middle of the living room. Sherlock refused to look anywhere but at John's face.

"Here." Sherlock held out the robe but John just looked at it blankly. "Okay. I'm going to put this on you, is that okay?"

John just blinked. So taking a step forward Sherlock gently placed the robe over John’s shoulders his hands lingering against his will as they settled on the top of John's arms.

"John?"

"I should hate you."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed letting his hands fall to his sides.

"I don't." John frowned, then pushed his srms inside the robe and did it up before sitting on the sofa. "I'm going to sleep now."

"You can take one of the beds."

"Are you going back to bed?"

"No."

"Then here is good." John made his point by laying down and closing his eyes, with in seconds he was asleep.

Releasing a breath he hadnt been aware of holding Sherlock suddenly smiled.

He could do this, no matter how long it took, because he always wanted John Watson to sleep close to him.


	29. Chapter 29

John woke to the sound of talking and of the kettle boiling. For a while he just led there, the feeling of belonging hitting so hard and fast it took his breath away. It felt like the times he had fallen asleep after a long case and woke to Sherlock either talking to Mr Hudson or Mycroft, or to him just making a tea because he some how knew that John was waking up.

Curling up he took note of the blanket placed over him, of a pillow placed under his head and then the smell of tea, it was that, that sent him over the edge. Tears started to fall silently so he pushed his face deeper inton the pillow to hide himself from the voices.

"He's awake." He heard Sherlock say, knowing he said it loud enough for John to hear.

"I'll leave you to it. Just remember what I said Sherlock"

"Of course Cathy." Sherlock’s reflected the nod John was sure he made towards the phycologist as she exited the room.

Listening he heard Sherlock lock the door then pick up two mugs, placing one on the table close to John and sitting down on the only arm chair.

"We dont have to do anything today. But I had some of your DVDs sent over, Mrs Hudson also sent enough scones and cakes to last four weeks." John smiled into the pillow before shuddering as he realised that it was probably Mrs H that found him. "She's not mad, she is worried and very happy that she did find you."

Turning slightly he looks at Sherlock who is staring at his tea, lost in thought. The man was stunning, even dressed in his pajamas and a hoodie. Suddenly John felt extremely self conscious of his own body. He knew he had lost weight, his hair now more grey than blonde and his wrist scarred in the most hiddious of ways. Curling his arms under himself he knew his movements drew Sherlock’s attention as crystal eyes shot up to meet his.

"I made you tea." Sherlock nodded to the mug on the table, John glad that he didn't say anything else.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice harsh from sleep and crying.

"Cathy wanted you to try some new medication. I told her that you wouldn't wish that."

"No, no more." John said as he gave in and slowly sat up. Reaching out he picked up the mug of tea, his free hand tugging on the sleeve of the dressing gown, knowing Sherlock watched his every move.

"Did they bring Star Wars?" He asked after a few sips of tea.

"Yes, also the new one...I didn't know they had made a new one."

"Yeah...Star Wars marathon it is then."

"I'll set it up." He watched Sherlock get everything ready as he sipped his tea, he then panicked as he realised he needed clothes.

"In the second bedroom." Sherlock said as he put in the first film.

"How..." John asked as he shook his head. "Dont answer, you always know things before I voice them."

"I...I hope I didn't over step having all your stuff moved here."

"No, it's what I wanted."

"I thought as much." Sherlock went to sit back in the chair then paused, turing to John, his eyes cast down. "Can I sit with you?"

"Yeah...give me ten minutes to shower and dress." 

Sherlock nodded, a smile on his lips which again did strange things to John's stomach and had him near enough running for the bathroom.

Half an hour later John was sat at one end of the sofa and Sherlock sat at the other end. They were watching Phantom Menace  (Sherlock deciding to watching in time order rather than release order). New mugs of tea steamed on the coffee table and a plate of cakes sat between them. Sherlock had offered to make some lunch, after all it had been rather late when John woke, but he had said cake was fine.

They hadn't spoken since the movie had started, the both of them just watching the screen but not really taking it in.

John for his part wanted to crawl across the sofa and curl up on Sherlock's lap, but two things held him back, he didn't know if Sherlock would like it and he didn't know if he would deal well with it. He wanted to convince himself that he would be fine because he would choose it, but then what if Sherlock touched him without asking? Could he handle that?

"I wouldn't object John, and I will only do as you ask."

"Stop reading my mind." John said with a smile.

"Habit." Sherlock moved the cakes to the table, removing the only thing between them. "I wont bite."

John looked at the space next to Sherlock for another half hour before finally moving and sitting right next to him so that they touched from shoulder to knee. He felt Sherlock tense slightly, his hand fidgeting before John took hold of the one closest to him and threaded their fingers together. 

The film continued, they stayed close together, held eachs others hand and for John, it was one huge step forward to recovering. 


	30. Chapter 30

By the time Revenge of the Sith finished Sherlock felt hungry. Sure the cake had gone done well but he wanted something more. The problem was it was nearly eight and the kitchen would be closed up by now. There was a kitchen in the flat but he had no food in.

"Do you think we could order out?" John suddenly asked from his position next to him. While they had been watching the films they both found themselves getting more comfortable with each other to the point that Sherlock had his feet up on the coffee table and John had curled up into his side, his head resting either on Sherlock's arm or his side, right now John had his head on his side while he held Sherlock’s hand with both of his, his fingers running over the line of Sherlock’s palm.

"You stomach is rumbling." John said as Sherlock looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah."

John smiled. "I don't need to be a detective to know you are hungry."

"True." Sherlock smiled back then picked up his phone with his free hand to look into ordering food. "They have a pizza place, Chinese and and Indian."

"Indian! Definitely that."

"Indian it is then." Sherlock started the online order, not even thinking about it as he ordered their normal fare. It wasnt until he he paid that he paused with worry.

"You haven't changed your preference have you?" He asked frowning.

"No, I have what I always have. It's why I just let you order."

"Right." He watched John going back to studying his hand.

"You have new scars." John muttered as he ran his thumb over a white line running over the back of Sherlock’s hand.

"Yeah."

"This was a knife." John stated as he slowly brought the hand closer to his face.

"Yes, defensive move on my part. It was either a cut to the hand or to my face." John dropped his hand meaning it fell on his chest.

"What else? I saw your back." Sherlock’s hand suddenly clenched on John's jumper.

"I..." he paused, why did he feel dizzy? "That is..." his heart was beating rapidly and then John's face was before his.

"Hey, breathe, just breathe Sherlock."

"John." Sherlock grabbed for John's hand, not thinking, just needing to be grounded as images flooded his mind.

"Its okay." John lifted his free hand, placing it on Sherlock's cheek. "I have you. You're safe and I have you."

Sherlock pushed into the hand on his face, his eyes closing as he regained control of his breathing.

"We are a right pair." John said, a smile to his voice. "Cathy has her hands full with just me, god help her when we really start talking."

Sherlock opened his eyes then lent forward till they had their foreheads pressed together.

"At least we can do this together." 


	31. Chapter 31

The night continued with Mark from the front desk bringing them their take away, a frown and a few stern words about atleast letting him know next time that they had ordered out.

They ate in happy silence as New Hope played out on the TV, the meal ending as Han Solo came and shot Vader out of the way allowing Luke to make the shot that blew up the death star.

"Utterly ridiculous." Sherlock muttered causing John to smile.

"You sit through the first three with out a single remark, but come to the original and you can not help yourself." John smiled as he sat back on the sofa after placing his plate on the coffee table, Sherlock’s arm automatically lifting allowing John to return to his position against Sherlock’s side.

"One shot John! Why even design such a flaw!" 

The sound of Sherlock voice ran through him as he talked, causing him to shiver.

"You okay?" Sherlock asked, his hand now placed over John’s heart. Enabling him to pull John closer.

"Yeah, I'm fine." John answered his hands wrapping around Sherlock’s wrist as he tried to move. "No, stay. I really am fine."

"John, you dont have to if you really dont want to." 

Sighing, John let go of Sherlock allowing the man to remove his hand but also allowing John to turn and bury his face into the crook of Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock gasped at the move but stayed still allowing John to stay, allowing him to just breath in Sherlock’s sent, to feel his warmth, but also to feel his pulse with his lips.

"John?" Sherlock asked breathlessly, his hands staying still as he let John explore. 

"I think my aversion to touch was due to only wanting yours." John whispered before pressing his lips harder again the increasing pulse in Sherlock’s neck.

His words seemed to unlock Sherlock’s movements because in seconds he hand gone from still to grabbing John and pulling him onto his lap so that John straddle his legs.

John knew the move was to keep him in control, he had the upper hand, had the chance to either carry on or to pull away. 

Looking down at Sherlock who had stilled once again with his hands on John's hips, his head tilted back to look up at John. His eyes were wide, fully dilated, his lips slightly wet from licking them and as John watched Sherlock slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip.

A growl emitted from some deep seated place within John as he watched but never moved. 

Why didn't he move? He could be kissing Sherlock by this point, could have that tongue inside his mouth, yet he stay still. What was holding him back?

"It's okay John." Sherlock finally whispered, his hands moving up from John's hips up his sides and stopping on his back. "We dont have to do anything."

"I... I want to, I really really want to."

"But you can't and its okay. We still have so much to work through. I don't expect anything, and I won't push."

"Coming from the man who-" John stopped himself. He knew something had happened to Sherlock while he was away, knew he had been hurt, tortured and where there was tortured he knew there could be more. "You have no patience Sherlock, you never have."

"Yet here I am, telling you I can and will wait. I thought this would never happen John, why would I push for it if it ended up pushing you away." Sherlock’s thumbs moved in small circles on his back, causing him to relax.

"Just...this sounds so pathetic, can we just cuddle?" John ducked his head, heat flooding his cheeks. But then Sherlock was pulling him down till his head was resting on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Cuddling is good." Sherlock said softly as he tightened his arms gently around John. 


	32. Chapter 32

John fell asleep around one,  just as they put in the very last film, the one Sherlock had yet to see and if he stayed up to watch it, who was their to tell.

As the credits rolled Sherlock stretched out his arms then looked down at John who had placed a pillow over Sherlock’s legs and had fallen asleep there. Sherlock had been tracing patterns over John’s shoulder or running his fingers through his hair while he had slept, loving the fact that he could do such things without feeling any guilt. 

As he switched the TV off John moved, then blinked open his eyes.

"Time is it?" He mumble.

"Late. Come on, bed."

"Yeah."

Sherlock helped John to his feet then led him to the spare bedroom. However as he opened the door, John paused then turned to the other room.

"John?" Sherlock asked with a frown.

"Your room. Your bed...sleep...come on." John entered the room without waiting and before Sherlock even crossed the threshold he had fallen on the bed face first, his arms moving under the pillow.

"You should change." Sherlock said as he took off his hoodie throwing on a chair within the room.

"Too much effort." John murmured back, Sherlock only understanding because of years of talking to John in a exhusted state.

"Right, turn over and sit up." Sherlock ordered as he came to John's side of the bed. He watched with a smile as John slowly did as he was told and once sat up he raised his arms allowing Sherlock to pull his jumper off.

Laughing to himself, Sherlock gently pushed John back onto the bed and looked down at the jeans he wore. Taking off his jumper was simple, after all John wore a vest under it, but taking off jeans was a whole other matter.

"Bed." John said holding out a hand.

"You are still wearing jeans, I would think sleeping in such clothing, uncomfortable."

"True." John dropped his hand to his buttons and started to undo them, once done he suffled on the bed slightly before pulling off the offending clothing and dropping the to the floor.

Licking his lips Sherlock tried to control his racing heart. Sure he had seen John totally naked not twenty-four hours earlier, but that was diffrent, John had been hurting. Now however he was sleepy and plienant and all Sherlock wanted to do was curl up around him and touch.

"Sherlock, get in the bed, hold me close or I will tickle you."

"I'm not ticklish." Sherlock answered, but walked around to the otherside of the bed and climbed in.

"You know I dont believe that for a second." John said as he shuffled closer to Sherlock allowing him to wrap an arm around Sherlock’s middle and place his head on his chest.

Sherlock stayed still, waiting for John to settle, then moved his hand up to cover John's back, while his other hand ran over the arm across his middle.

"I still can't seem to get over the fact that your heart beats." John whispered after a period of silence.

Sherlock tightened his hold, his eyes closing as he faught tears.

"I'm sorry John." He finally said as a few tears escaped and slid down his face.

"I know." Came the reply, along with a kiss over Sherlock’s heart.


	33. Chapter 33

Waking with Sherlock’s long body wrapped around him was somwthing John had dreamt about many times. So it was natural for him to just lay there, waiting for the dream to end, and to wake up alone.

However, Sherlock’s arm tightened around him ad then soft lips pressed against his neck followed by a sigh.

"Not dreaming John." Sherlock’s voice rumbled through him. "However, it is nearly eleven and Cathy wants to see us then."

John lifted his hands to cover Sherlock’s, his fingers running over the pale skin.

"Real?"

"Yes, very real." 

John relaxed, leaning back into Sherlock’s chest allowing himself just to find as much comfort in the embrace aspossible.

"We really should get up."

"Umm, few more minutes." John muttered as he closed his eyes.

"I would love nothing more than to stay here holding you John. But unfortunately my body is telling me I need to get up, and soon, really soon."

John suddenly laughed, then paused before giggling like mad as Sherlock pulled himself free and ran to the bathroom. When he returned John was still laughing, the sound of it filling up the room and making John feel lighter than he had felt in months.

Sherlock jumped back onto the bed and just watched John as he continued to laugh.

"I dont understand what it is you find so funny."

"Neither do I!" John got out between laughs. 

John then moved, pinning Sherlock to the bed, a wide smile on his face.

"Today will probably have tears, shouting and a hell of a lot of anger." 

"Agreed." Sherlock nodded as he got comfortable under John's weight.

"But for now, in this instant I am happy." John whispered then placed a soft, almost none existent kiss to Sherlock’s lips. When he pulled back he winked and jumped out of bed.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change of POV on this one, thought that having the sessions seen from Cathys POV would be a better way to write them.
> 
> I think these chapters may be a bit longer ;)
> 
> Also I am no therapist and I have only ever had a session with one three times over ten years ago, so this is simply fiction and things are not going to be factually correct.

Reading through her notes once again she took another sip if her coffee before looking up at the clock. It had just gone eleven, they were late and John was never late. She thought about going to check on them, just to be sure they hadn't killed each other, or rather that John hadn't killed Sherlock.

Smiling slightly Cathy shook her head then lifted her head as a knock at the door drew her attention.

"Come in." She called standing as the door opened admitting John then Sherlock. The first thing she noted was that they held each others hand, she looked at the hands then to John how smiled at her.

"Well this is a rather intresting development." She said with a smile even as she woundered if John would welcome her touch. So she tested the waters and raised her hand to shake first Sherlock’s hand, who took it and shook it gently, before holding it out for John who just stared at it, but also stepped back, turning his body away and closer to Sherlock.

She smiled again lowering her hand. "It's okay John, you know we will respect boundaries, I was just interested in how much they had changed."

"Just Sherlock." John said quietly as Sherlock ran a thumb over John’s hand, clearly the both of them finding comfort in the contact.

"That's good, it means your haphephobia can be controlled. You will welcome touch to those you truly trust."

"I trust you."John answered with a frown as the two men sat on the sofa.

"Yes, but I am not a friend, you have no love for me, you do not care for me and that is fine."

"I care on a basic level."

"Of course you do, you are human, a doctor as well as a soilder. Your whole purpose at one time was to care for the whole human race. But not anymore." Taking a seat across from the sofa she indicated the tea pot and mugs on the table between them. "Please help yourselves."

Surprisingly it was Sherlock who took the lead with making the tea, something she was sure that John would have taken control of. But the smaller man just sat back and watched as Sherlock sorted the both of them out and handed John the first mug. When this happened however a none verbal exchange happened between the two and when Sherlock turned back he looked up at her with his strange all seeing eyes.

"But she doesn't drink tea John, and she has a half drunk, still hot coffee on her desk."

"Ah yes, thank you." She said with a nod.

As she stood she heard John saying that it would have still been polite to ask if she would like a drink.

"But she would have said no." Was Sherlock’s answer as she sat back down, coffee cup in hand.

John sighed, shaking his head but otherwise saying nothing.

"He was right John."

"I know." John said in a rather tence voice. "He's pretty much right about everything."

Ah. Cathy thought, so straight into it.

"Not always, I got it wrong about Harry."

"Harry?" Cathy questioned.

"My sister, he thought she was my brother."

"I see."

Taking a sip of her coffee she watch the two, with Sherlock sitting on the edge of the sofa and John leaning back meaning the two of them had already put of defences and all they had done was make tea. She had a lot to work through with the both of them, if only she could convince Sherlock to talk to her separately, then she really could help them fix the rift that was healing but still very much between them.

"I think for today we need to establish some rules."

"Rules?" John asked.

"Yes. In this room things can be said, they can be talked about and analysed. But when you leave this room you both will continue being who you are. Things said in this room will need to be worked though and understood before you leave."

"Don't we have a time limit?" This from Sherlock.

"I have been assigned to the two of you only. My fellow doctors have a good relationship with my other patients and so they will be taking over their care."

"Mycroft." Sherlock sighed.

"Yes, your brother can be rather pushy, however I would never have agreed if I didn't think it nessasary. You both have so much to work through and to do that I feel you both need the time, no matter how long."

Silence fell and finally Sherlock sat back against the sofa and John moved ever so slightly to lean against him.

Contact between the two of them seemed to be a very crucial thing. This was good in one sense, but she saw it being a problem if they both became too dependant on it.

"So, no leaving here unless all that needs to be said on certain topics has been said?" John asked.

"Yes."

"So what do we talk about?"

"Right now? Anything."

"Right."

"I'm here to guide, the help. And the first thing that needs to happen is just for the two of you to talk, to reconnect on a verbal level."

"But there is so much." Sherlock said, to both her and John's surprise.

"Like what?" John asked again looking down at his mug of tea.

"I...the...what I did."

"And what did you do?" Cathy pushed as John said nothing.

"I jumped." Sherlock looked at her when he answered, she however was watching John.

"John, can you stay with us?" She asked gently. She could see how close the ex soilder was to running, to closing off once again.

"I'm trying." He finally answered.

"That's good. What could help keep you grounded?"

"Sherlock." He said instantly his had reaching for Sherlock’s hand, no his wrist. His fingers wrapped around Sherlock’s wrist allowing him to find the pulse point and holding himself still as he counted.

"He's alive John."

"Confirmation." Was his answer. "I need...I know, I mean he's sat right next to me, but I need to feel this when we talk about it."

Cathy nodded then turned her attention back to Sherlock. "You jumped?"

"I had to..." So Cathy sat and listened as the story of why Sherlock left was told.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue in this one.

Sherlock sat with his head in his hands. His fingers gripping his hair and tears drying on his face.

A week had passed since he and John had started talking, really talking and this was their third session. 

John had walked out half an hour earlier leaving Sherlock and Cathy alone, leaving Sherlock feeling lost, stupid and incapable of hiding.

As soon as the door had slammed shut tears had started to flow, a sob escaping his lips and his legs unable to hold himself up.

"Do you understand why he is upset Sherlock?" Cathy asked softly as she started to gather her notes. She had no reason to talk to him, he patient had left.

"Yes." He answered after a while. 

Looking up he just held Cathys warm eyes before sighing and falling back against the sofa.

"Fine...I'll talk to you." He said sharply.

"You don't have to."

"But I do. I need to talk, I need to tell...someone."

"And you can't tell John?"

"John has his own problems, I won't put mine on him as well."

"Okay. So what do you want to tell me?"

Silence.

Closing his eyes he tried to order his thoughts, his feelings. What was important, what needed the most attention.

"I was caught. I got away about three months before returning." He said as he opened his eyes.

"How long?"

"I'm not sure. They...they kept me awake for long periods." 

"What happened?"

"Basic torture, water given rarely and in drops only, food given days and days apart. As I said they hardly let me sleep."

"Do you dream about it?"

"Not since sharing my bed with John."

"Okay...Sherlock you know the question I need an answer to. Will you give one?"

"Ask the question."

"Did they rape you?"

A lump he did not expect formed in his throat as he tried to form answer.

"Deep breaths Sherlock. You are safe, you need to remember that. You are safe."

"Did you know I fell in love with John straight away. I loved him so deeply that I couldn't stand him going on dates but I let him, I just sometimes broke them up early." He sighed, his arms wrapping themselves around himself. "I wanted him... I wanted him to be...he would have been..."

His eyes narrowed and when he spoke he was practically growling.

"They stole that from me."

"Have you been tested?"

"Yes, files are locked by Mycroft."

"He knows?" 

"Not out right, he just knows by looking."

"You have always had an aversion to touch yourself."

"Yes."

"But never with John."

"No."

She nods but he doesn't understand why.

"What?"

"Will you tell John?"

"I...if I did he will change."

"Change how?"

"He...he will be pitying and I dont want that."

"Do you pity him Sherlock?"

"What? No! Of course I don't."

"Because you love him."

Eyes wide he took in a breath and just stared as Cathy smiled.

"John loves you, he needs you just as much as you need him. He wont pity, he will try to comfort you, and do things at your pace."

"We haven't even kissed yet."

"No, he told me you hadn't."

"Right."

"Sherlock, your defence is indifference. You wrap yourself up in it, but you need to face this."

He knew she was right, his normal responce on the tip of his tongue.

"I want to say it doesn't matter anymore, that it happened and that is that."

"But it's not."

"No...it is everything."

"Yes it is. They took from you and it is perfectly normal to feel anger and loss for what they took."

"What did I take from John?"

"This isn't about John. This is about you."

More Silence.

"Process this Sherlock, take your time and work through it all."

"More sessions?"

"One on one? Yes. We can see each other when ever you wish."

"Right...thank you."

"I will suggest one thing, tell John. His anger is because he feels like you are still shutting him out. He knows things happened and he needs you to tell him."

"But this is not about John."

"No, this is about the two of you. Open up to him Sherlock, he has to you, so do him the same courtsey."


	36. Chapter 36

The stones crunched under his feet as he walked the gardens. He didn't much care that it was raining, that his jumper was already soaked through, that his shirt was stuck to him and water from his hair dripped down his neck. 

The last week had been exhusting for John. Talking took up so much of his energy, thinking took up his energy, feeling took up his energy, but anger, anger gave him energy and he was so angry. He was also frustrated, frustrated with Sherlock's lack of talking, lack feeling and lack of thinking about anything other than John. He was happy that he had Sherlock's attention, happy that the other seemed so focused on helping John, but he knew, he knew there was something Sherlock was hiding, something that had happened while he had been away and no amount of gentle probing or patience had given John even a small amount of information to what it could be.

Finding himself at the end of the garden, he looked up at the tall hedge before sighing and turning, instantly running into a solid object. Jumping back he went on the defensive, then relaxed seeing Sherlock stood in nothing but his shirt, his hair soaked and stuck to his face and neck. He thought about saying something about walking in the rain with no coat, but it would sound stupid seeing as he had no coat himself. So he just looked up into those amazing eyes, puffy from tears, and so bright they looked like the clearest waters in the world.

"John...there are things, things you need to know, but-"

"Kiss me." John interrupted, knowing that what Sherlock had to say would break his heart, it would hurt, but first he needed to kiss him.

"What?" Sherlock asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Kiss me."

"Why?"

"So that when I kiss you again, after you have told me, you will know it wont have changed anything."

Sherlock's next move was fast, a hand came up to hold the back of John's head, while the other grabbed his wet jumper at his hip and then those lips, god those lips, so soft so full, were on his in what could only be called the hottest kiss of John's life.

Letting his eyes flutter close, John sighed into the kiss as his hands found Sherlock's hips, pulling him forward so that they are pressed together from hips to lips. Sherlock kissed like an expert, yet John was pretty sure this was his first kiss, he was gentle with his demands, but demand he did, he wanted to touch, to taste all of John's mouth, from his lips, wet and cold from the rain, to his tongue, hot and yielding as Sherlock continued to explore, with his own tongue and teeth.

A moan rose up from John, as he ran his hands to hold onto Sherlock's back, his legs feeling heavy as Sherlock wrapped his arm around John as well, yet kept his hand to the back of his head.

The rain continued to pour around them, over them, yet they didn't care. They both needed this, John most of all. To finally have the man he thought dead, pressed against him and kissing him into oblivion was life changing. He would never be able to give this up, not for anything.

Sherlock pulled back first, his breath hot and fast against John's cheek as he pressed his forehead to John's.

"John."

"I know." John lifted a hand to Sherlock's face as he caught his own breath. "Lets go in, get dry and talk then."

Sherlock nodded against his him before placing a soft closed mouth kiss to John's lips and taking his hand, then leading him through the gardens and back to the flat.

 


	37. Chapter 37

Getting into the flat they both headed for the bathroom, grabbing towels and stripping off their soaked clothing.

Before he took his shirt off however Sherlock paused as he went to free his arms of the wet material. He knew John had seen his back the other night, but it was dark and they were both in a rather bad place, not that they weren't in a bad place now, but then had been worse, or so he thought.

_Oh shut up brain!_

Looking at John on the other side of the bathroom, close to the door he was surprised to see John also pausing, though he stared at his wrist still covered in his shirt sleeves.

"We both have new scars." Sherlock finally said causing John to look up, his brow furrowed in worry and thought.

"Yes."

Sherlock dropped his towel closing the gap between them and taking hold of John's hands gently. Looking down at those hands, smaller than his but still so strong, showing his history, his time as a surgeon, as a solider as a drinker. Lifting them he placed kisses on each palm, then over his knuckles before letting go of one hand and undoing the cuff button, then doing the same with the other. Once done he pulled gently at the sleeve of one arm till John pulled his arm free, the process repeated on the last arm. Once the shirt was off Sherlock picked John's hands up again, again kissing the palms, the knuckles before kissing just below each new scar of each wrist.

"You of course did it the right way."

"Of course."

Another pause, then Sherlock looked up to find John's eyes filled with fear, pain, guilt.

"I really wanted to die, I couldn't do it anymore, couldn't pretend, couldn't deal with it. I missed you so much and I knew that no matter what I tried I would never feel happy, feel whole again and I just couldn't go on." John suddenly laughed. "It sound's so pathetic, wanting to end my life because I couldn't exist without you. But there it is."

Sherlock felt tears stinging his eyes but he ignored them as he took John's face in his hands and kissed him, this time with such tenderness that it hardly equated to a kiss at all, but it was what this situation called for, that quiet comfort and simple contact that meant John was not alone anymore.

"You John Watson can never be call pathetic, you had reached a breaking point, one I caused and will be making up for, for the rest of our lives."

"Sherlock-"

"No John, I will always feel guilt for what I did, for what I put you through, just please let me look after you forever, then I can live with it all."

"Okay." John finally nodded a small smile on is face.

"Good."

"Now, your turn. I saw your back, but I never paid much attention to it the other night."

Sherlock froze, he knew it was crucial they did this, that they shared this, but he was terrified. To relive what he had gone through was something he never thought he would have to do, even though his brain loved to play things out for him at the most of inconvenient of times.

"I'm here Sherlock. We can take this one step at a time, nice and slow, and the first step would be for you to show me."

He answered with silence and action. Shrugging off his shirt he let it fall to the floor then closed his eyes.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter...it also feels like I'm close to the end of this, let me know what you think.
> 
> Warning for talking about rape and torture.

John watched Sherlock close his eyes, he looked at him for a moment before walking around him to look at his back.

What he had seen a week ago had been but a glimpse of the damage done. Now he could see what looked like whip marks covering most of his back. Some had cut so deep that the scar was wide were it hadn’t been stitched together to heal properly. Others scars ran in thin lines from shoulder to hip, a knife or scalp the obvious cause. There where also small round scars that covered one shoulder, theses caused by cigarettes being put out.

"How long did they have you for?"

Sherlock jumped at John's voice and turned to face him, eyes wide, pulse visible in his neck as his heart beat fast and hard.

"I don't know." He whispered.

"It's okay." John picked up the towel Sherlock had dropped and slowly started to run it over the pale chest and back were water from dark curls was breaking free and running over the cold skin.

"I had made a stupid mistake; I had underestimate a man I thought to be a no one within the cell I was tracking. It turned out that this man was far from stupid, in fact he ran the whole damn thing and he knew exactly who I was." Sherlock shuddered. "I thought I had convinced him to let me join, so when he took me to one of the meeting's I just walked straight into their trap."

John listened as he dried Sherlock, then taking a pale hand he walked them both into the bedroom.

Leaving Sherlock by the bed he gathered together warm clothing for them both. Passing the clothes to Sherlock so they could both changed quickly before John pulled back the covers and crawled into the bed.

"Come here." He said gently as he led down, opening his arms out for Sherlock.

Sherlock started at him for a while then got into the bed and curled himself up into John as John wrapped his arms around him.

"We don’t have to talk right now, you showed me and answered my first question. That is enough, but I will listen when you want to tell me more."

"Now, I need to tell you now, all of it." Sherlock sounded so small, his deep voice a whisper.

"Okay."

"Don't leave, not until it’s over."

"Sherlock...look at me." John loosened his grip and looked down at the man in his arms. Sherlock slowly lifted his head, his eyes already red from silent tears. "I won’t leave. No matter what you tell me I promise I won’t."

"Please, don't promise something you won’t be able to keep John."

"I will keep it."

Rather than arguing Sherlock just sighed and hid his face once again against John's chest.

"The torture was the easy part, the pain reminded me I was alive. But the sleep deprivation, dehydration and starvation was what nearly drove me to the edge."

John tried to keep his breathing slow and calm, to just be the rock in Sherlock’s storm. But he found it hard to hold himself back, from showing any emotion and so he tightened his hold and found himself pressing kisses into Sherlock’s curls.

"It got worse about a week in, or maybe it was only after a few days." Sherlock forced out. "There was a new guy that took over, he was...he...he liked to touch."

Sherlock shivered and John wanted nothing more than to erase it all.

Silence followed for a while, he could feel Sherlock shaking as he tried to verbalise what had happened and John almost caved, almost told him that he didn't have to tell him anything. But Sherlock needed this, he needed to tell John because he would never tell this to anyone else.

"The others touched, of course they did, but this guy was different. The others did it to hurt, to cause humiliation. But this guy, his touches were gentle and...and he...he caused me...god this is so hard."

"I have you Sherlock."

Sherlock took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out before he continued.

"I was chained up, was forced to stand with my arms above my head, I had been stripped of my clothing in the first night. This guy came in for the first time and he didn’t hurt me, his touches were gentle, soft. He cleaned me, washed away the dirt, the blood, sick...everything. He then talked at me, I didn't talk back, I didn't talk to any of them. He then...he made me hard, he made me...ejaculate."

John had known, he didn't know how he knew, but he knew Sherlock had been raped.

"Still here." He whispered.

"It became routine. The torture, being cleaned, then the touching. But then the touching became...he said I was selfish, that he had been making me feel good and I had offered nothing in return. He...that night he penetrated me, as well as used his hand, he hurt, but I... how? How did I still...ejaculate?"

"The male body is sensitive in a way a woman isn't. Give it enough simulation and it will react even if you don't want it to. It was not your fault Sherlock."

"Others started to join in after that."

The tears John had been holding back broke free then and he let them fall silently.

"John...I wanted...it was meant to be you. I wanted it to be you, the first time, and every time after, just you."

"I know." John choked causing Sherlock to look up and then he was out of John's arms and sitting at the end of the bed.

"Sherlock." John sat reaching out to him.

"You hate me." Sherlock suddenly sobbed.

"No." John freed himself of the covers and knelt before the scared man he loved far more than what he should.

"I do not hate you and I will never hate you." John took hold Sherlock’s face, just as Sherlock had done to him in the bathroom. "You mean so much to me Sherlock, you drive me crazy but I would never want to be without you, I tried that and look were we ended up. I would never hate you for what others have done to you. I hate them...tell me they are dead."

"Mycroft."

"Right. When we get home remind me to send him a muffin basket."

Sherlock laughed at that as he brushed away tears.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes. We will stay together, will continue to work through our problems, and will finally go home and start again."

"You... You will stay?"

"For as long as you want me."

"Forever...I want you forever."

"Then forever you shall have."


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still on holiday, but have a break so wrote some fluff. Enjoy x x

They slept, it wasn't even tea time when they finally stopped talking and the emotion of the day caught up with them sending them both into a much needed sleep.

When Sherlock woke it was dark, the rain still hitting the window of the bedroom, the sound joinig with John's soft snores. 

Blinking his eyes a few times to clear them he allowed his night vision to kick in then just led there watching as John slept on, unaware that it was still raining, that Sherlock was awake and watching him. He looked peaceful, happy, the stress of the day not even a shadow upon his features. Reaching out he ran a gentle finger from temple to chin, then over soft lips, round cheeks, eyebrows and nose. He ingrained the feeling of each into his mindpalace, into the room, no the wing he had over time built just for John.

"I can hear you thinking." John muttered causing Sherlock to blink and rejoin the real world.

"Mindpalace." Sherlock said with a smile.

"I know." John opened his eyes a smile on his lips.

"Since when have you been able to hear me think?"

"Since you pointed out that thinking can be loud, and you are the loudest thinker I have ever met."

Sherlock smiled and because it felt like the thing to do, he lent forward to press his lips to John's in a slow tender kiss.

"What was that for?" John asked once he was able to.

"Because I can and it felt like the thing to do."

"Fair enough." John moved then, shifting Sherlock onto his back and looking down at him as he ran his fingers through curls. "Tell me what I can do?"

Sherlock frowned. "I dont understand."

"Tell me what I can do with you, what you will be comfortable with."

"Kissing." Sherlock whispered. "They...never."

"Okay." John smiled. "Kissing we can do."

With that John taught Sherlock everything he knew about kissing.


	40. Chapter 40

For two days they lived in a world were their problems and fears hovered around the bubble they had created for themselves.

Cathy had tried talking to them but they just locked themselves away, spending their days watching crap TV while curled up on the sofa, dressed in pajamas and covered in a duvet, with legs tangled and hands touching.

At night they talked and listened.

They also kissed and kissed until breathing became nessasary and touch became too much.

They lived in a happy bliss they hadn't thought find again and now that they had it they where afraid to let it go, to return to the real world, to the problems that still lingered between them.

The choice in the end was taken from them.

John woke with a start, his eyes wide and alert in seconds as he assessed his surroundings and trying to work out what woke him.

"No!" Sherlock suddenly shouted from next to him causing John to jump from the bed, an intruder expected to be the cause of Sherlock’s shout. But only the empty space of the bedroom greated him.

Sherlock was still asleep, his legs twisted in the sheets, his hands clasped above his head, his face twisted into a snarl and a hiss escaping his lips as he twisted as though trying to escape something.

John recognised it as a nightmare instantly, but it was more than that. What Sherlock was going through was a flashback, something John knew well.

Kneeling back onto the bed John knew he had no choice but to watch, to listen because waking him would be the worse thing to do, waking hin right now would force him into a waking nightmare and John couldn't do that to him.

"No...no...no...oh god...no...stop, please, stop." Sherlock’s voice had change from a shout to a whimper, each word a knife in John's chest.

"Please, no! No I don't...I'm sorry, I'm sorry...please!"

John snapped.

"Sherlock." He said, reaching out and gently touching an arm. Sherlock’s reaction was instant, he moved away from the touch a cry of pain escaping his lips.

"Sherlock you need to wake up." John tried again, but didn't touch.

"John...god...John please, I'm sorry, so sorry."

Tears suddenly blurred John's vision.

"It's okay, you don't have to be, it's okay."

"They...oh god John, it hurts, it hurts, please..."

"She-"

Sherlock suddenly screamed, his back arching up from the bed, his body spasming as tears flowed down his face. The scream carried on and on and then the sound of fists pounding on the front door finally reached John's ears.

Rushing through the flat he unlocked the door throwing it open to find Cathy and two ordarlies with concerned looks on their faces.

"He's having a flash back." John said as way of explaining, stepping aside as the three entered. However before they reached the bedroom they stopped as Sherlock appeared at the door a knife in hand, his eyes wide and totally unseeing the real world around him.


	41. Chapter 41

He was free, he got out, he did it...how did he do it?

 _It doesn't matter!_ He shouted at himself as he found a knife, the stupid idiots had left a knife.

Stepping forward he stummbled slightly as pain raced up his back, the feeling of fresh blood breaking free and running down his back. He wanted to give in to the pain, to curl up and hide. But he was free, the chains gone, a knife in hand. He needed to run, to escape.

He just made it to the door but paused as three people appeared.

He tightened his grip on the knife, his heart rate increasing as he took in hia captors, his torturers, rapist.

"Sherlock." One said holding his hands up and taking a step forward.

"No don't!" Another ordered and a fourth appeared from behind the others. "Don't touch him." 

Sherlock frowned. He knew that voice, the command in it's tone, the fear, he knew it well. Yet the face, the body was wrong.

"Back the fuck up!" He hissed stepping forward, knife held out. 

"Okay. This way." The forth said causing Sherlock to frown and the others to step back.

"What?"

"It's this way." The man indicated to a door that led outside.

"Why?"

"I...I was sent to help get you out, it took longer than expected, I apologise. But this is your chance, trust me."

Sherlock frowned, he didn't want to trust the man, but freedom was just feet away. Looking at the others he held his knife out then slowly made his way to the glass doors that led outside. 

The man walked with him, opening the doors and stepping aside.

"See, you can leave. You're free."

Sherlock looked out at the garden, at the sky slowly changing to dawn then back to the man.

"John." He whispered as the world suddenly shifted and John stood before him, the patio door open, a knife in his hand.

"It's okay." John said slowly lifting a hand and wrapping his fingers gently around Sherlock’s wrists. 

"I...what...oh my god." Sherlock felt his legs go just as John took the knife from his hand. 

"I have you." John pushed the knife away from them, the sound of it moving across the floor loud and intrusive on Sherlock's fragile state of mind.

"I don't understand." He said as John wrapped strong steadying arms around him.

"I know, but it's okay, you are safe."

"I...they...where did they go?" He suddenly panicked remembering that not minutes ago his captors had been with them. Now only John and Cathy remained.

"Sherlock you were dreaming, it seems to have induced a flashback and hallucinations." Cathy said as she made her way to the kitchen and started to make tea and coffee.

"Oh." This was a first for him, nightmares he was used to but not this, not reliving it in the way he just had. "John?"

"You're okay. I have you." John whispered but Sherlock heard the tears, the pain.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock finally pulled back and looked at John who had tears in his eyes and running down his face.

"I'm fine."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, no Sherlock you didn't hurt me." John touched his face, tracing his fingers over his sharp features. "You didn't hurt anyone."

"Why...why are you crying?"

"Because I finally understand."

"Understand what?"

"Not now...later." John placed a soft kiss to Sherlock’s temple. "Tea first, shower, dress, then we talk."

Sherlock watched him for a time then nodded, only realising that their bubble had been broken when Cathy passed him his coffee.


	42. Chapter 42

John watched Sherlock carefully as they drank coffee. Sherlock was more than jumpy and he wouldn't let anyone near him after Cathy had given him his mug, something John understood as the nightmare and waking flashback still clung to Sherlock’s mind.

So John and Cathy sat in the sofa, John finding himself a bit more comfortable with her being so close but she never once tried to touch him. Sherlock sat in the lone arm chair, he sat in the edge as though sitting back was not an option.

"Your back hurts." John finally commented as Sherlock flinched as his side hit one off the arm rest.

Sherlock looked up his eyes clouded and distant but he focused on John.

"Bleeding."

"Can I see?"

"No." Sherlock hissed and he felt Cathy tense next to him.

"He's back under." She whispered as she slowly placed her cup on the table.

"But he woke up." John said with a frown.

"Not fully. Tred carefully John."

"Why me?" Though he knew the answer. "Dont answer, I know why."

Turning back to Sherlock he took in the tence shoulders, the narrowed eyes, the ready to act position Sherlock had put himself in and the pain that Sherlock was clearly feeling as though it had just happened.

"Where are we?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

"We are safe, I helped you get out remember."

"Right."

"Can I help with your back, maybe clean it?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, I can...shower?"

 "Of course. You can do whatever you want here."

"Can I leave?"

"When you are healed enough."

"Right." Sherlock nodded then looked around.

"Through there, first door you come to on your right. I'll leave some clothes outside for you." 

"Right. Thank." Sherlock stood slowly then headed towards the bathroom the sound of the door locking filling the silence.

"He's dealing with what happened." Cathy said as she leant back into the sofa.

"In a bad way."

"Yes. We need to try and control this as muxh as possible."

"We need all the information on how he got out and what happened after that."

"I'll contact Mycroft." Cathy pulled out her phone as she talked.

"Yeah, he will know."

"He will probably keep coming back to the present but he can slip back at any moment."

"Right."

"John, you are my patient, my concern here is for you. Can you deal with this?"

John turned to slowly look at her.

"He has been holding onto this for a long time. He has been there for me now it's my turn."

"You don't have to John."

"I know I dont. But I want to."


	43. Chapter 43

Something was off. He didnt know what was wrong, but he knew this wasn't right. He had been saved...no...no he had escaped, on his own. He never had any help. So who were the two he had just been talking to?

Leaning his head against the the cool tiled wall he let the warm water run over his back, hissing slightly at it stung. When he opened his eyes he expected to see blood red water running down his lower body and down the drain. But it was clear.

Wrong.

He didn't understand.

What the hell was going on?

Where was he?

Who was he with?

Was he truly safe?

"Sherlock?" John called through the door...John.

"John?" He whispered frowning toward the door.

"I've left you some clothes. Take your time."

"John." He said louder pushing himself from the tiles. "John?"

"Yeah, I'm here Sherlock."

What the fuck?  How was John here? John was in London, safe, sad, lost but safe.

"You...you can't be here."

"Can I come in?" 

"No!" Sherlock jumped from the shower grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself as he reached the door and made sure the lock was still in place.

"No...you cant be here John, you need to go back to London."

"Sherlock we are....well not exactly. We are about an hour from London."

"No...I was...they had me in Serbia."

"Yes. I know. But you are safe now, in the UK. You're home."

"Home." He whispered leaning against the door. "John something is wrong."

"I know. Believe me I know. Can you trust me?"

Yes! Of course.

_So open the door._

"Oh." He breathed out as he let himself sink to the floor, hot tears run slowly down his face. "You're not real."

"Sherlock...I'm real, I'm here, right here and very very real."

"No, you can't be. This is just my mind playing tricks, always playing tricks. I'm still strung up, they have me chained, waiting for the next beating for the next...I welcome the beating."

He heard a choked off sob and the door vibrated as someone lent against it.

"I'm here Sherlock. I'm real, you came home, returned to me and...and you're safe. Please just remember you are safe."

Safe? Lies, it was a lie, all of it. 

"No, I'm not."


	44. Chapter 44

"John, we might have to admit him."

"No." John shook his head as he lookes up from his position on the floor. "That would destroy him."

"He could be a danger."

"Yes. But no, just wait, give him time to work through what ever this is."

"Server flashbacks."

John nodded, he knew what it was, he knew the dangers not only to Sherlock but to those around him as well, but Sherlock couldn't be admitted into anything.

"Give me a few days."

"John you must understand the damage this could do. You are not fully recovered and-"

"He needs me. He has always needed me. I keep him right, keep him steady. And he does the same for me. Just let us deal with this our way."

Cathy sighed shaking her head. "I know I'm going to regret this."

"You wont. A few days, lock us in, just keep the tea and biscuits coming."

"Okay, you have till Thursday then I need to assess both of you."

"Fair enough." John noddded.

"John?" A muffled voice sounded on the otherside of the door.

"Still here Sherlock." John answered towards the door.

"John it's wrong."

"What is?"

"Everything."

"I know. Come out Sherlock, please. You must be cold and I have clothes waiting for you. We can sit and have tea as well if you like."

"Are you alone?" 

John looked back to Cathy who gave a small smile then left.

"Yes. Just me and your clothes." The sound of movement caused John to get up and stand facing the door. He stared at it for what felt like hours when it finally opened.

"John..." Sherlock’s red swollen eyes fell on him and more tears started to flow.

"Oh Sherlock." John closed the distance between them as Sherlock reached out. Wrapping his arms around the thin waist John instantly felt how cold Sherlock was.

"You're freezing."

"Dont care." Sherlock mumbled into John's hair.

"I do. Come on, lets get you warmed up." John picked up the clothes, all the while keeping hold of Sherlock’s hand then led him slowly into the bedroom.


	45. Chapter 45

Sherlock couldn't let go of John, the John that was fake, the John that was in his head, the John that was warm, soft and solid. He smelt amazing, felt fantastic and it was all a trick.

"You need to let go."

"No." Sherlock whispered, his lips moving over the pulse in John's neck. 

_This feels so real._

"Sherlock...William."

Sherlock laughed slightly. "William...no one calls me that."

"No, but I will because so far it has been grounding for you."

"John, you ground me."

"Is this real?" John's hands were on his back, holding him, warm on his bare skin, his fingers moving ever so slightly sending small tremors through his body.

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you can't be."

John pulled back then his blue eyes soft, worried, bright. 

"I am real. This is real, you came back, you came back for me because I needed you. You came back and my god I hated you, but not now, now I need...I need to be here for you. Let me be here."

Sherlock stared, he took in the man before him, the hair more grey than blond, his skin paler, his body thinner. He looked like the John he had left but at the same time he looked so diffrent, he looked...lost.

"John?" Sherlock moved then, placing his hands on John's face. "John, my mind is working against."

"I know, I understand." John lifted his own hands to cover Sherlock’s. "It's okay, I'm here, really here and if there is one thing you need to remember through this is, I am real."

John kissed him then and though his mind drew a blank against all the other kisses before this he knew this wasn't the first because his body remember, his lips remembered and they moved with John's, danced with John's until he couldn't take anymore and so pulled back to breath. 

"You need to dress." John whispered as he lent his head against Sherlock’s shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because your skin is too tempting." As to prove a point John ran his lips over the pale skin on Sherlock's shoulder and neck. 

"Oh." Sherlock sounded as his eyes closed at the contact.

"Dress Sherlock...please."

 


	46. Chapter 46

John helped Sherlock get dressed. The flash back seemed to be have a real physical affect on Sherlock's back, he believed that the torture was recent causing the scars to pull and feel as though they where bleeding. John tried to reasure as much as he could, telling Sherlock that he was healed and safe, but he could clearly see the distrust in Sherlock’s eyes.

Pulling the shirt down over Sherlock’s head after helping with the arms John found himself staring up and into Sherlock’s unbelievable eyes, the colour of them still a total mystery to John even after all the years they had known one another.

"Phone?" Sherlock asked.

"What?"

"I need my phone, it's... I need it to...but then you're here, really here." Sherlock lifted his hands to John's face, his fingers gently as they touched, as they stroked.

"The messages?" John asked as he moved his hands to Sherlock’s hips.

"Yes. But they don't matter if this is real."

"It is real."

"Where are we?"

John paused closing his eyes for a moment trying to work out what to tell him.

"The truth. Tell me the truth."

"Your mission ended." John started as he opened his eyes. "You came home, in fact you were ordered home."

"Why?"

Licking his lips John took in a steadying breath, even as he felt his resolve start to crumble.

"I did something, and Mycroft deemed your time up and so he ordered your return."

Sherlock frowned, his eyes moving over John rapidly to which John’s fingers flinched from Sherlock’s hips to make sure his sleeves covered his wrists, Sherlock saw the movement though and his hands moved from John's face to his wrists.

"Say it." Sherlock finally said look up. "Say what you did."

"I tried to kill myself."

Sherlock shuddered, it was a full body shudder that started from his center ending at his hands, feet and head.

"I can't survive without you Sherlock. I tried, but I failed. Now you're not really here and I...damn this." John hissed pulling his hands free and walking backward till his back hit the wall. He needed to calm himself, to recenter himself and he needed to do it now!

"John."

John held out his hand. "Wait." 

All movement stopped though they both held each others eyes and that helped John more than he cared to admit. Sherlock was real, he was here he was safe and most definitely was not dead.

"This is real Sherlock." He whispered. "You are  having a vivid flashback and I will help you through it. But I need you...please I need you." He felt stupid and weak as his voice broke and tears started to fall.

Sherlock took two long strides forward closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around John, pulling him close and whispering comforting word into John's hair.

"I'm here, I...I don't remember, I'm sorry, but I am here. I will always be here and I will always protect you."

John smiled through his tears as he clung to Sherlock’s shirt. He felt an idiot, felt like he should be stronger than this, Sherlock needed him to be strong but at the first hurdle John fell in spectacular fashion. 

"I should be helping you, I should, but it's hard. I need to remind myself constantly that you are alive that you are real and that this isn't just some dream I'm stuck in. God Sherlock...I love you so damn much! Too much, it has be classed as too much, because my dependancy on you is...it is not healthy!"

"It's okay." Sherlock whispered.

"No, no it's not, it's not okay! How can this be okay? I tried to kill myself because I wanted so badly to join you!"

"I know, and if you had succeeded I would have done the same."

"No you wouldn't." John moved his head to kiss Sherlock’s chest.

"I would have because what you feel is a twin to how I feel about you. I have loved you for so long, have tried to protect you in any way I could. I would have jumped either way that day, even without the safe landing."

John tenced at the thought, his fingers tightening on Sherlock's shirt. "Don't say that."

"It has to be said. Your life depended on what I did that day and I would have done anything to make sure you lived."

John felt sick, his head spun and then he was on the pavement holding a wrist with no pulse.

"No..." 

"John, I'm right here, John....John....fuck!"


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this chapter did not want to be written! I started it so many times and deleted it a lot! Anyways hope this one works.

"John?" Sherlock asked as he gently lowered the smaller man to the ground. "John, it's okay, I'm here right here."

Laying Johns head onto his lap Sherlock ran his fingers gently through John's greying hair, the strands soft on his fingers. He had no idea what had happened, what had caused this reaction in John even as something told him that he should know.

Running through everything they had spoken about he tried to work out where they were. John had said they where in England, just outside of London. Why? Why were they not at home? Looking about he took in the bedroom. It was well furnished, comfortable and stylish, but it wasn't lived in, it wasn't owned by anyone, it looked more like a hotel than a home. But then there was the living room, the kitchen the other people. He stopped in the others he had seen, the two men dressed in pale blue scrubs, the woman, dressed in a comfortable trouser suit. They all wore badges, all looked concerned and not at all afraid as Sherlock welded a knife at them. The badges, what was on the badges? Names; Cathy, Mark, Steven.

Place of work; Old Manor recovery center.

"Oh...oh John I am so sorry!" He whispered looking down at the still passed out doctor. John had tried to kill himself, he had also showed signs of stress just before passing out, stress linked to Sherlock’s fake suicid to Sherlock admitting he would have done it no matter what.

"Fuck." Sherlock hissed as he finally understood.

Lifting John’s head gently from his lap he lay him down then stood, went through the flat and opened the door leading to the hall. 

As he looked down the hall he frowned as the light yellow halls were replaced with dark stone ones then returned to normal.

"You're okay, you're not being held prisoner and you are safe. You are safe." He repeated to himself, John’s voice also sounding in his head.

Stepping out into the hall he slowly made his way to the end, looking through doors as he went till he spotted Cathy talking to Mycroft.

"My?" Sherlock asked causing both of them to jump and stare.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?" Cathy asked as she stood.

"John, he collapsed." Sherlock answered not taking his eyes from his brother.

"Where?"

"Bedroom." Cathy left, yelling down the hall for help as she did so.

Sherlock continued to stare at his brother a small frown on his face.

"You knew I was there."

"Yes."

"Why-"

"We had people try to break through to you, they all died doing so."

"Oh." Sherlock stumbled, Mycroft was before him, holding him up in an instant.

"I tried little brother, I even started the process of infiltration when word got out that you had escaped. I searched for you, but you went deep underground."

"I...I don't remember. It's there I know its there but I can't reach it."

"I know, Cathy was just explaining. She thought this was some sort of waking flashback, but I'm not so sure."

"Thing's change."

"Meaning?"

"My surroundings, they change, people change, they become..." His breath suddenly changing becoming harsh and short as he tried to pull himself together. "My, they did thing's, they...they..."

The world shifted once again and his brother changed before his eyes.

"No, not you, not you."

"Sherlock?"

"No I killed you! I remember that, I...I..." He stepped back, his eyes looking around the small cell that had been his prison. He needed something, he needed someone.

"John." He whispered turning and racing back to were he had left John.

When he got there it was to find his kidnappers, his torturers stood all around an unconscious John.

"Get the fuck away from him!" He yelled seeing red and going to attack the closest person to him, but arms wrapped themselves around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Easy Sherlock." His main tormentor whsipered to him. "Take it easy."

"No, let me go! Let me...no!" His eyes widened as one of the men walked towards him with a syringe in hand. "No, don't, don't...don't!"

The needle found his neck, the sting of it making him hiss then darkness quickly took over and his found himself slumping against the person holding him.

"Don't hurt John." He mumble. "Not John, me, hurt me." 

Seconds later he passed out.


	48. Chapter 48

Cathy turned to watch as Sherlock walked in, he looked lost, and not at all stable or happy with what he was seeing.

As he went to attack Mark she pulled out a pack of sedatives she kept on her and preped it as Mycroft wrapped his arms around Sherlock, holding him close and steady. 

"Steven." She whispered pushing the syringe into Stevens hand. He nodded and made his way to Sherlock, administrating the sedative quickly. He then helped Mycroft with moving a now passed out Sherlock onto the bed next to John.

"This not healthy Miss Carter." Mycroft said  as he straightened his suit and looked over at her as she took in the two men on the bed.

"No its not, but separating them now would be disastrous. Their relationship has become a reliant one, they both need the other to get through this, so it is my opinion that we keep them together."

"Till when? Till they destroy each other? Drain each other? My brother is already suffering, his mind is a mess and having John depending on him is not what I would deem helpful to either of them."

Cathy looked up her yes narrowing as she took in Mycroft stance.

"Your brother caused untold damaged to a man who was strong, independent and a fighter as well as a carer. Yet John has been able to move pass all that. He now wants to be able to help Sherlock in any way possible. I don't know what happened here, what set John off, but it happened and Sherlock saught help even though his mind is playing horrible tricks on him. That is an impressive feat for someone in Sherlock’s position. He then saught to save John pain, even begged for it to happen to him and you think separating them would be the best course of action?"

"I never said that."

"You don't have to Mr Holmes, it is written all over you. You want to save your brother, to help him in the only way you know how, which is to take him away from what is hurting him. To your eyes that pain is caused by John, which is correct in some ways but it is not our main concern anymore. Our main concern now is being able to move forward. They both need to deal with the past, to sort through their problems and the only way they will do that is together. John has proven that by dramaticly improving in the weeks Sherlock has been here. Let me do my job Mycroft, and let these two heal each other or you will lose your brother."

They both looked down as John shifted then turned onto his side and instinctively sought out Sherlock, his hand stilling once it rested over Sherlock’s heart.

"We should leave them. The sedative will wear off in an hour or so." Cathy said as she headed to the door. Mark and Steven had already left so once Mycroft stepped out of the bedroom Cathy closed the door quietly behind her.

"If this doesn't work I will hold you personally responsible for any lasting damage."

Cathy smiled.

"The damage is already done Mycroft. Now it is my job to make those two men as functional as possible. So if they leave here damgaged but ready to face the world then I will see that as a complete success."


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag change!

John woke slowly, his body having sent him into a rather deep sleep after the events of the day. As he woke he remembered what had happened and his mind shouted at him to wake up faster, to make sure Sherlock was okay, but his body was having none of it. He felt soft and heavy even as he slowly forced his eyes open to take in his surroundings but the first thing he saw was Sherlock.

"Hey." He forced through his dry throat as he took in Sherlock’s worried eyes. 

"Hi, how you feeling?"

"Heavy." John answered as he snuggled deeper into his pillow, his mind calming as it registered Sherlock as being safe.

Sherlock smiled, his fingers lifting to brush at John’s hair.

"It has been quite a day." Sherlock said quietly.

"Yeah...do you remember?" John asked as he woke up some more, the fog of sleep lifting from his mind yet his body still refused to come back online.

He watched Sherlock frown, the worry in his eyes increasing.

"It would seem my mind has started to play tricks on me. If I remember correctly I threatened Cathy and some orderlies with a knife?"

"Yes."

Sherlock nodded then fell back ontohis pillow with a sigh.

"If I can no longer trust my mind John then what is the point?"

This woke John up completely.

Pushing himself up he moved closer to Sherlock to look down at him.

"Your mind is healing. Think of it as a computer having a virus if it makes it easier for you. It will take time to kill the virus, and the damage it has caused will last but you can build something new if needs be." 

Sherlock's eyes drifted to his a small smile on his lips.

"Okay fine that was a bit stupid but its true!" John said with a smile.

The smile left Sherlock’s lips his hand lifting to touch John’s temple. Your mind is doing the same."

"Yes. It is a bugger and when I think it's nearly healed it throws another flashback at me."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it wasn't your fault. Things like what you said need to be said, because of course you would do it...no matter what." He took in a breath steadying himself even as his fingers lifted to Sherlock’s wrist,  a move he no longer thought about as he saught out that ever impotant pulse point.

"We need to be honesty with each other. We need to be able to say things and for us not to over react. But as i said our minds are still healing, still infected and it could be a while before words stop having an effect like today."

"My flashbacks are dangerous."

"Yes, but only to those you don't know. You remembered me in the end so I think if it happens again we just make sure I stick with you."

"But what if I trigger another flashback in you, like today."

John sighed and let himself fall forward till his head rested against Sherlock’s shoulder. Breathing for a time he let Sherlock wrap his arms around him, pulling him closer as his fingers stroked gently down his back.

"Do you know what my flashbacks are?" John finally asked.

"I can guess."

"I relive that whole day." John whispered. "I go through it all, and the part of me that knows it's not real tries to make things diffrent but it never works." Sherlock’s arms tighten around him but he says nothing.

"But you're here, I wake up from that and you are here and I can do this."

He shifts in Sherlock’s arms till he can brush his lips over Sherlock’s. A sigh leaves both of them and then Sherlock is pushing John over onto his back, a second later John is being kissed so deeply and so thoroughly he has no choice but to hold on and kiss back. Sherlock settled over John, his arms on either side of John’s head with elbows holding him up ao he could run his fingers through hair and over skin. His legs settled between John's and then that wounderful body settled down onto John’s and John found himself suddenly very much awake and very turned on. 

Feeling himseld harden he panicked and turned his head away from the kiss.

"John?" Sherlock asked concerned.

"We are taking things slow." John said looking back at Sherlock.

"Ah, you mean this." Sherlock said as he shifted hips to press down into John.

"Fuck!" John hissed feeling Sherlock's own hardness rubbing against him. 

They both stilled, John holding onto the tops of Sherlock’s arms and the two of them just searching as they tried to control their breathing.

"Like this?" Sherlock asked shifting his hips again, the friction caused sending shivers through John's body.

"Only if...if you're sure."

"I'm sure." Sherlock answered as he pushed his hips forward once again which John answered with a thrust of his own hips.

"Okay...oh fuck!" John arched of the bed as Sherlock picked up his pace and then they were kissing once again as they continued to rut against each other.

It was rough, and fast and over far too quickly but it was perfect, so utterly wounderful as he held on to a shaking Sherlock while they both breathed in much needed air and came down from the most exquisite high.

Turning his head into Sherlock’s curls he smiled.

"You okay?"

"More than okay." Sherlock turned to look at him a smile on his own lips. "That was..."

"Yeah?" John askes with a laugh.

"Yeah."

"Good." They both laughed, allowing this moment to just be happy.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the happiness not lasting too long, sorry.
> 
> Also happy 50th chapter!!!!
> 
> Would like to thank all those that have read to this point, commented, left kudos, subscribed and bookmarked this story, it all means so much to me!! So THANK YOU!!!!

Sherlock paced, his dressing gown flowing out behind him his hand running through his already messy hair his eyes worried as he waited for John to wake.

He had woken an hour earlier, his body curled up next to John's, the both of them in nothing but their underwear.

They had both showered, separately, had a cup of tea and then went back to bed. They had both been fully clothed at that point but by the time they had fallen asleep all that was left was their pants. 

Closing his eyes he replayed the events, the touching and kissing. The exploring of each others skin and scars, the soft gently orgasm that had taken place with John's using his hand, then the clean up and the cuddles that had seen Sherlock fall asleep on John's chest listening to his steady heart beat.

When he had woken everything had been perfect, blissfully perfect. He was happy, he was relaxed, but he started to panic as soon as everything came back to him.

So now he paced, as he thought, while also trying very hard not to let fear overwhelm him as his mind started once again to play tricks. It seemed to want to join his experience with John into what he had suffered through at the hands of his torturers.

A knock at the door caused him to still his heart rate increasing as he just stared at the door. 

Another knock sounded forcing him to take a step back then John appeared from the bedroom his dressing gown halfway on when he paused and looked at Sherlock just as another louder knock came.

"John." He whispered looking to the door then back to John who pulled his dressing gown on fully and walked to the door and opened it but only slightly.

"Cathy."

"Hi John. I was hoping to see you both, to make sure you had both recovered from yesterday."

Sherlock looked down at his hands, hating how they shook as he held them up. 

"I err." He heard John say as Sherlock let his legs give out and he found himself crossed legged on the floor. Looking up at John he shook his head, begging John to not let anyone in.

"I don't think it would be a good idea at the moment." John said turning back to Cathy. "We will come find you later?"

"John, what is it?" He could hear Cathy's concerns but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

"Later...everything later, just not right now, please Cathy, just let us have a morning together without being watched or analysed."

"Okay." Cathy finally said, doubt in her voice. "I will make sure I have time free this afternoon for when you are ready."

"Thank you Cathy." John said with a smile then closed and locked the door. Turning he took in Sherlock then walked across the room and settled behind him. He then pulled Sherlock back till he was leaning against John’s chest and strong arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"You're safe." John whispered as he lent his head against Sherlock’s.  Sherlock let himself be held, let John’s warmth comfort him.

"What happened?" John asked carefully.

"My mind, it...it's confusing last night with other stuff."

"Right...I...I dont know what to do."

"This." Sherlock answered leaning his head back against John’s shoulder as his hands covered John's. "This do this. Just hold onto me, please."

"Always." John promised as he rocked slowly and his lips pressed warm kisses into Sherlock’s hair.


	51. Chapter 51

The morning moved slowly.

John was able to get Sherlock onto the sofa after an hour on the floor, his leg finally complaining enough for him to do something about it.

He had made tea, a round of toast each, which neither really ate, and the TV had been put on just to fill the silence. 

By midday Sherlock had fallen asleep while cradled in John's arms and with John running soothing fingers through tangled curls. Looking down at the sleeping man John felt tears pricking at his eyes as the whole situation came crashing down around him.

The love of his life was a broken man, just as broken as he was yet the reason behind each were totally diffrent. Sherlock had gone through hell at the hands of many were as John had suffered at his own hands just because he couldn't be alone. He felt pathetic for feeling the way he did, for making Sherlock feel so guilty about leaving, for blaming him for everything when he had been going through so much himself. He could no longer blame the man for keeping the phone account alive just so he could hear a friendly voice every now and then, even if that voice at times spat hate and venom at him. He tried to remember some of the messages left, what he had said exactly but knowing he had not once told Sherlock that he loved him because he couldn't bare the thought of it not being said back. 

The tears now fell unchecked as he lent his head against Sherlock’s.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He whispered slowly into curls so soft and smelling so damn good he couldn't help but smile through his tears. "I love you so damn much, don't leave me,  not ever. Take me with you no matter what, because I will protect you, I will help you, I will heal you...always."

"Promise?" A whisper came from his chest causing him to tighten his arms around Sherlock’s waking body.

"Promise."

"Then I promise to never leave, to take you everywhere, always." Sherlock looked up then his eyes bright and so totally alive John gasped. "Come home with me, come back to Bakerstreet, today."

John frowned, his heart shouting at him to say yes! Yes I want that, I want to go home, back the place that is ours. But his mind rebelled, it informed him that they were both still unstable, still lost, still healing and that would take time, so much time.

"I...I dont know." He finally answered.

"Why?"

"Because I...I'm not sure if we are ready. Here we have help at the drop of a hat. Help that yesterday proved that we need. But yes, god yes I want to go home, to go back to the flat that means so much, to sleep in...your bed, my bed, our bed." He smiled then as his fingers traced over Sherlock’s face. "Your damn experiment."

Sherlock smiled. "I apologise for that. But yes, to sleep in our bed would be...brilliant."

"But not yet. It's too soon." John lent down kissing the top of Sherlock's head. "We still need to work through so much."

"Why?"

"To prevent what happened to us both. Our flashbacks can happen at any time and until we learn to control them or prevent them then we need to stay."

"I agree."

"Good." John smiled. "Cathy wanted us to see her this afternoon, are you up for that."

"If it means getting us home quicker then yes."

They both smiled, then Sherlock shifted and moved so he was leaning over John, he then leant down and kissed John slowly, lovingly till the both of them were breathless.

"I love you John."

John smiled, as he pulled Sherlock back down for another kiss.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Cathy POV chapter so a bit of a long one.
> 
> Again I am no therapist so just go with it, after all this story is mostly dialogue so what is set up in this chapter will help with moving it forward.
> 
> Anyways enjoy :) x x

Cathy sat on her sofa, coffee in hand as she read through some files for new patients. The day had been quiet, mostly because it was meant to be her day but with what had happened to John and Sherlock she came in just to make sure they were okay.

As she finished one file a knock at her door sounded and John entered with a smile even though he looked exhusted.

"Good afternoon John."

"Hi Cathy...Sherlock wants to talk."

"Right, let me just gather my stuff." She said as she stood and grabbed both John’s and Sherlock’s file from her desk.

"Before we go." John stopped her as she reached the door. "He's wanting to go home."

"Is that a problem?"

"We're not ready."

"No you're not, but getting you both home is the aim here."

"I know." John hesitated then stepped forward entering Cathys personal space for the first time since they met. She smiled and slowly raised her hand giving John every chance to back away before placing a hand on his arm. 

"This is good John." She said as she squeezed his arm gently. 

"I just...I trust you Cathy. I trust you to help us, but please dont let Sherlock talk you into letting us leave earlier than you think. He can be so manipulative when he wants to be."

Cathy watched John closely as be spoke her eyes showing worry at his words.

"Do you think he manipulates you?" Cathy asks quietly.

John shakes his head a smile on his face. "No, unless its to make tea."

She smiles back but makes a mental note of what she has just been told. She was good at her job, she wouldn't be on their case if she wasn't and she knew John was trying to tell her to just watch out for herself when it came to Sherlock. But he had to know it was also a form of crying out for help when it came to himself. 

"Okay, shall we then?"

"Yeah. Okay." John turns and walks back towards the flat. Once there he knocks three times before opening the door and stepping in.

"Just me Sherlock." John called. "And Cathy of course."

Cathy watches Sherlock uncurles himself from the sofa and stood slowly, his eyes track Cathy yet as John moves closer his hand reaches out and takes hold of John's hand and pulling the smaller man to him.

"Afternoon Sherlock." She greets with a smile as she closes the door. "How are you feeling today?"

"Disoriented." He answers as John pulls Sherlock down onto the sofa.

"Yes, we had to sedated you yesterday. Do you remember that?"

John reacts first. "What? Why? When?"

Cathy raises her hands as she sits down across from the two men.

"Sherlock do you remember?" She askes instead of answering John.

"I..." he closed his eyes for a moment. "Mycroft was here."

"Yes, he had come in to see how you both were doing."

"I was protecting John." He finally said as he opened his eyes.

"Very good. It would seem your flashbacks can be recalled which means when they happen a part of you is still aware. That will help us when it comes to helping you deal with them but it will aslo lead to this disorientation you feel when you are lucid."

"Wait." John lifted his hand. "So why was he sedated?"

"Because I was going to attack them. I thought you were in danger."

"Oh." John looked at Sherlock them smiled. "Always protecting me."

"Yes."

Cathy smiled as she opened her file reading through her notes from yesterday before continuing.

"John." She spoke breaking the comfortable silence in room. "Do you remember what happened to cause your flashback?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to tell me?"

"He said he would do it again, that he would..." John sighed grabbing Sherlock’s wrist in a way Cathy was used to seeing when it came to talking about Sherlock jumping. "That he would jump if it meant saving me."

"Okay, but you're okay with talking about it now?"

"It's diffrent." John sighed.

"Why?"

"Yesterday was...stressful. With everything else that was going on I guess I just lost it." 

"Do you remember what it was you relived?"

"The fall, always that."

"Okay. With regards to you John your flashbacks might be harder to deal with."

"Because I get trapped."

"Yes. Sherlock, we could reason with you on some level but John, you are unreachable when you are down."

"Okay, so what is the plan?" Sherlock asks.

"This. We talk."

"That's it?" Sherlock scoffed.

"Yes. Talking with me and between yourselves is the best thing to do in situations like this. I want one on one sessions with you both as well as talking together. I also want sessions were I'm there but it will be just the two of you talking."

"We talk when you are not here."

"Yes, but in those sessions I will be setting the subject of desicusion."

"So forcing us to talk on things we dont want to talk about." John sighed falling back against the sofa.

"Yes." Cathy nodded as John glared at her. "Do you want to talk about what you said to me earlier?"

"No!" John almost growled.

"What did you talk about?" Sherlock asked looking at John. 

Cathy held John's eyes then turned to Sherlock.

"This my rule for our on going sessions. What is talked about in the sessions are only to be talked about with me here. You are not to talk about anything when I am not here unless I state otherwise."

"So no forcing each other to say things." Sherlock says with a nod.

"Exactly."

"Agreed." Sherlock said turning to John.

"Really?" 

"Really. I dont want to force anything from you John because I know you will tell me when you are ready to."

"Oh." John smiled then looked back to Cathy. "I agree."

"Very well. So tomorrow I will have one on one sessions with you both and the next day we will talk together. That will be how our sessions will be as we move forward."

"Sounds good." John says.

"Brilliant. Right gentleman I will leave you to your evening. Talking if you want, but I recommend silence as well, just enjoy each others presence for a time." She smiled as she stood, the two men also standing and then John followed her to the door to see her out.

"Thank you Cathy."

"Of course John." She raised her hand again and when she touches his arm she smiled down at it. "This really is excellent progress John, I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks." 

"I will let you know of what times in the morning."

"Okay, see you then."

Stepping out of the room Cathy headed back to her office to write up her notes and set out their schedule.


	53. Chapter 53

The livingroom was empty when he walked in, the sound of the shower running though informed him of John's whereabouts. Walking to the sofa he falls down onto it, his head falling back to lean on cushion as his eyes close.

It had been a week since his flashback, in that time he had had three one on one sessions with Cathy, one session with the three of them but none where just he and John could talk between them. 

Today Cathy had gotten him to open up about John messages. About what they ment for Sherlock, about how he clung to them, especially after he had escaped.

_"Tell about the first message after you escaped"_

_"He said he was being followed. I of course contacted Mycroft even though it was two weeks after the message was left. But i needed to know if he was okay."_

_"What about the one before that."_

_"He spoke about Harris, though he never told me his name."_

_"When did you get that message?"_

_"The morning I...that they..."_

_"That must have been difficult."_

_"What?"_

_"You had just recived a messaged from the man you love that he was going on a date. You then had a job to do."_

_"Yes."_

_"Did it distract you?"_

_"...I...yes...no...it didn't distract me from what I was there for, I got on with my job. But it...I used John to hide from the pain, I used the memory of him but in the beginning I found it hard to."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because all I could do was picture John with another."_

The sound of the kettle being switched on brought him out of his thoughts, his eyes opening to watch as John prepared two mugs for tea.

"How was it today?" He asked pouring milk into both mugs.

"Tell me about Harris."

John paused for a moment before he looked up and smiled slightly.

"Harris huh?" 

"Yes."

"Well we dated for a few months,  dinners, cinema-"

"Sex?"

John held his eyes for a moment before finishing the tea and bringing them round to place on the coffee table and sitting on the sofa facing Sherlock.

"What is this about?" He asked concern in his voice and eyes.

"You had a chance at happiness but you never took it. Why?"

"Because I was a mess." John sighed looking down at his hands before talking again. "He spent a few nights with me towards the end. We got on and I enjoyed his company then when I thought he was in the shower I called you."

Sherlock reached out then taking John’s hands in his own but said nothing as John squeezed his fingers gently.

"He came to ask me something but stopped as he saw me on the phone. I don't know if he was waiting for me to finish but in the end I called and left messages, deleting each one, several times before he made himself known. I was mad at first but as he talked I realised that I couldn't lead him on anymore, that before me was someone so close to loving me but I was unable to give it back. So I let him go. I..." He stopped taking taking in a shuddering breath. "That day was the day I realised I wouldn't live for much longer."

Sherlock felt his heart stutter at those words, John had planned to die, he had planned his suicide.

"I should tell Cathy that." John said in a dead voice before he shook himself slight and looked up with a small smile. "So now you know the depth of my crazy."

"You're not crazy."

"I planned everything Sherlock. Going to my sisters, waiting till after Christmas, taking the heroine, having the scalpel ready. Mrs Hudson’s though was a mistake, she was meant to be at her sisters and Mycroft was to find me. But she was home, she heard me fall or something and...I wont forgive myself for that. But everything else I had planned to perfection, only a crazy person would do that." 

Silence fell between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was nice. It allowed the two of them to process what had been said. For Sherlock it added a whole new depth to John, but it also allowed Sherlock to understand just how much John was trusting him with this information.

Running his thumbs over John’s hands he smiled slightly as John lent forward and place a small kiss to his lips.

"Can you accept my crazy?" John asked softly.

"As long as you accept mine." Sherlock countered. 

"Deal."

 

 


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I will say about this one is....ouch.

 

John wanted to scream. 

He could feel it building up inside of him, could feel the pressure as the air built in his chest, could feel the sound he would make, holding itself in his throat waiting for the air from his lungs to propelle it forward and out.

John wanted to scream, but he didn't.

Blinking slowly he took in slow deep breaths, trying with all his might to hold onto his sanity, to keep the air of calm around him so that he could continue to pretend so that he could just make it through the next half an hour without exploding, without screaming as he left the room that was far too full of people.

A hand gently placed itself over his and he found himself flinching back away from the touch for the first time in weeks. Eyes wide he sought out the owner of the hand, finding it attached to Sherlock, attached to the one person who could touch him. But here in this room with so many people. _No...no I can't do this! I needed to leave, now, right now!_

Standing he looked around trying to find the best escape route, the one that would involve the most amount of distance from all the people.

"John?" Sherlock asked as he too stood but kept his distance.

"I need to leave...I need...oh god." His breathing changed, becoming erratic and hard, his chest changed from full to empty and he could feel the panic building. Leaning forward as the room spun he placed his hands on his knees and just stayed that way. Static noise filled his ears as his eyes blurred but through it all he found he could still hear Sherlock. Sherlock who was talking softly, who was trying his hardest to help, to reasure, to do anything to help John through what was currently happening.

"I'm going to put my hand on yours John, my hand, not anyone elses just mine. Nod if that is acceptable."

John nodded.

The warmth of Sherlock’s skin on his had a very sudden and very strong effect on him, one he didn't forsee. Everything focused down to that touch, all his nerves shut down apart from those on his hand. His eyes sharpened as they looked down at the long fingers gently laying on his and his heart rate slowed as his adrenalin kicked in. This was not good.

Lifting his head slowly he twisted the hand that was being touched so as to grab the wrist attached to the hand touching him. Gripping the wrist hard he finally looked all the way up to Sherlock’s eyes, a growl escaping his lips as his other had started to come up, his intention to break the arm or wrist that had dared to touched. 

He wasn't fast enough. 

More hands appeared, touching his arms, grabbing his jumper, pulling at his skin, pulling at his grip on Sherlock until he was no longer touching him. 

The scream he had been holding onto choose that moment to break lose, it was set free and he screamed as though those touching him were killing him, the pain of their touch was that intense. So he faught, he kicked, he tried to throw punches he even tried to use his teeth, anything to get them to stop, to stop touching. _Please...please stop touching! Please!_

He felt the tears roll down his face but had no idea that his words were said out loud, that Sherlock was watching with stunned eyes and that the small sharp pain in his neck was a sedative that brought on the darkness that he went into willingly.


	55. Chapter 55

Sherlock stood stunned as they pulled John away. He had seen the dark intent in John's eyes just as he had lifted his free hand, he knew John had intended to harm, to at the very least break Sherlock’s arm. As John fell unconscious and the orderlies took him from the canteen Sherlock spun to face Cathy, notat all caring about the others now watching him as they all lost intrest in their food.

"I told you this wouldn't work!" He shouted taking a step closer to the woman.

"John needed to continue his therapy with regards to his haphephobia. We had been able to get him to eat here, close to the end of meal times, before you had arrived." She sighed looking down for a moment before looking up at Sherlock her face sad but determined.

"I needed to see if he had regressed at all with it being just the two of you for so long. It would seem he has and for that I can only apologise. I should have kept up his therapy on that. But things progressed far to quickly with the two of you and unfortunately his haphephobia got put on the back burner."

Sherlock sighed angrily, his fists clenching as he tried to rain in his emotions.

"He lost all sense of himself." He finally said.

"Yes, touch can cause him pain when its unwanted."

"But he nodded when I asked if I could touch him."

"Yes. But the feeling of that touch was too much, he probably thought he could handle you touching him because he had become used to it." Stepping forward Cathy placed a gentle hand on Sherlock's forearm and looked up at him. "Come to my office Sherlock. John will be out for a while and we need to talk about what to do next."

Sherlock looked down at the hand touching him and frowned.

"I used to be like John." He said as he moved his arm out of her reach then followed as she led the way out of the canteen.

"I know. John would talk about you not liking others touching you. That only he could treat you when you got hurt."

"Yes."

"What changed?" Cathy ask as they entered her office and went about making a coffee for the both of them.

"I was raped and tortured." He muttered falling onto the sofa. "I desensitise myself."

"I see." Placing the coffee mugs on the small table she took her normal seat, he body relaxing slightly but Sherlock could see the question running through her mind.

"Are we to turn this into one of our sessions?" Sherlock asked almost harshly as he picked up his mug, if only to do something with his hands.

"Only if you want it to. Or we can just sit here, drink our coffee and wait for John to wake." Cathy said with a small smile.

"I don't want therapy." 

"Then we won't talk about anything."

They watched each other for a time before Sherlock relaxed and took a sip of his coffee.

"We should invite someone John feels comfortable with." He finally said after nearly finishing his drink.

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Our landlady, Mrs Hudson."

"She found John?"

"Yes. She understands that John never ment for her to find him. We had talked when I had returned and she forgives him for what happened."

"But John has yet to forgive himself." Cathy stated.

"True. But Mrs Hudson has always been free with her hugs and such, he is use to her offering small touchs of praise or comfort. I think it would be good for the two of them, and it will help John."

"We will have to okay it with John first."

"Agreed."

"But it is a good idea. What about his sister?"

"They dont really have a good relationship. But we can ask him." Sherlock offered as he placed his now empty mug back down.

"Is there anyone else?"

"Lestrade...he words for NYS."

"Greg, yes John has spoken of him before. I think this would be a good step forward for him, to have people he knows to come and vist. One at a timeat first then maybe have them all here for a lunch or dinner."

Sherlock nodded his agreement then stood.

"I need to see him."

"Okay Sherlock. Just, when he wakes, wait for him to make the fist move."

"Of course." Sherlock said then left the office and headed to the flat to see John.

 


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for hitting the 100 kudo mark!!! Thank you everyone who has read, kudoed, subcribed and commented! I wouldn't still be going if it wasn't for all the support.
> 
> This is especially for AlwaysJohn x x

John woke slowly. His head felt foggy, his body like dead weight. He tried several times to push his eyes open before they finally opened.

He knew he felt the way he did due to being put out with a sedative,  he just couldn't remember why he had needed to be sedated in the first place.

Blinking slowly he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before turning onto his side, tucking his hands under his head and finding Sherlock led facing him with worried filled eyes.

As John watched Sherlock, taking in the colour of his eyes, trying to name each and every colour he saw he tried to remember what had happened. He knew it was bad because they dont sedate here unless you are harming yourself or others. Since being here had had never tried to hurt himself, he had only hurt other's when ever they touch him.

Blue, that was one colour. But it wasnt just boring blue like his, it was more a silver blue.

So what happened?

He remembered the morning, cuddles in bed, kissing as they showered, giggling as they made breakfast and then Cathy came.

Green was also a colour. Again not boring green, more like a crystal green, the kind of green you could find in the most clearest of waters.

So Cathy came with an invertation to the canteen for lunch...oh.

That had scared him, the thought of all those people in one place, of them being all around him, within touching distance. That was terrifying to John and Sherlock had near enough shouted his anger at Cathy before John had stopped him and said he had wanted to try. 

Gold, small tiny flecks of golde  dust sprinkled as though by a child covered the greens and blues.

Why had he tried? Why had he wanted to try? Because he had allowed Sherlock to? Because he could touch Cathy? Because he needed to prove to himself that he was getting better? He couldn't remember why.

Dark grey, a ring of it around his irises, contrasting with the lightness of the other colours, bringing them into sharp focus. Sherlock really did have the most amazing eyes.

"I tried to hurt you." He suddenly said, the words not even registering in his mind before he said them, the event only replaying in his mind after he spoke.

Eyes wide he cover his mouth with his hand as the whole thing came crashing around him. He had tried to hurt Sherlock, something he had promised he would never do. He had lost himself when he had tried to break Sherlock’s arm, having no recollection of who he was or even who Sherlock was.  All he knew was that who ever had been touching him needed to stop and needed to be hurt.

Tears sprung up in his eyes fast and steady, ignoring them as the fell freely down his face to gather on the pillow.

"It's okay John." Sherlock tried to reasure but John could see how much he held back from reaching out to touch him.

"You wont even touch me now." John stated as he chocked back a sob, pulling further away from the frightened man before him.

"No...John, no-" Sherlock reached out then but stopped just an inch from John's arm. "Cathy said to wait, that I should let you-"

John moved faster than he thought his drugged body could go. He moved into Sherlock’s space, pushing himself against the long lean body, curling his arms up into the space between their bodies and burrowing his head under Sherlock’s chin.

He felt Sherlock take in a deep breath, the air shuddering out of him as he wrapped his arms around John's shoulders and pressed his face into John's hair.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry sorrysorrysorrysorry." John muttered into Sherlock’s chest, shaking, even as he took comfort in warm arms and Sherlock’s unique scent.

"It's okay John, it wasn't you, you weren't incontrol, your phobia was and I get that."

John didnt let Sherlock’s words comfort him, he knew what he did was wrong, especially to Sherlock, Sherlock who had suffer so much all ready, who had been tortured and raped countless of times. He didn't need that same treatment from John. 

"If i ever get like that again, leave me, just dont let me hurt you! I could never forgive myself for that and I would never ask you to forgive me."

"John this is not your doing and I could never leave when you need me the most, to do that would be unforgivable!" John felt soft loving kisses being placed into his hair, could feel Sherlock shaking as he held back tears. "I love you John. God how I love you!"

John pulled back then, breaking his arms free to delve his hands into soft curls and pulling Sherlock down till their lips met. 

The kiss was harsh, intence, without boundaries and most definitely without hesitation. Sherlock pushed back till John was on his back his legs settling inbetween John's, their hips lining up perfectly. John moaned as Sherlock delved his tongue into his mouth, the muscle licking and searching, toying with John's own tongue. 

When Sherlock pulled back, gasping for air he looked down at John with almost black eyes,  the blues, greens and gold gone, taken up by lust, want and need.

"I want-" Sherlock started then stopped, biting his lip, an action John had never seen him do before.

"What? What do you want?" John gasped as Sherlock shifted, causing their growing erections to brush together through their clothing.

"I...god." Sherlock hissed leaning down to hide his face in John's neck. "I want to be...tell me no if you dont want to...but I need to be in you John."

John felt his stomach flip at those words, his arousal increasing dramaticly causing his hips to thrust up.

"Yes...yes yes yes. Please, I want that too, need it just as much as you. Please, please." As John spoke his hand started to move over Sherlock’s back pulling at his shirt, trying to free it from the confines of Sherlock’s trousers. Sherlock too started to pull at John's clothes, each of them fumbling and failing as they kissed while trying to undress the other. 

"Stop...stop Sherlock, just...here." He pushed Sherlock back before reaching for the bottom of his own shirt and pulling it up over his head. Sherlock quick caught on and soon they were both blissfully naked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dont hate me ;) :p
> 
> Also blame them for the end of this chapter, I never expected this to happen!!!


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahoy, but not too explicit, want to keep the muture tag but let me know if it needs changing.

Everything stilled.

His brain shut down, his breathing shallowed, his vison narrowed, his heart stopped.

Sherlock tightened his hand on John thigh, holding the leg up and against him as John canted his hips allowing Sherlock to slip in deeper, a moan leaving John’s lips as Sherlock went completely still.

Looking down he caught John's eyes as they opened, the darkness of those eyes swallowing him whole, making him fall all the more as the trust John felt was reflect in the dark depths.

"Move Sherlock." John whispered as he canted his hips again, one of his hands reaching round to grip at Sherlock’s ass while the other ran up Sherlock’s chest,  to his shoulder then his neck before cupping his check. "Move love, I wont break."

Sherlock moved, he pulled back before thrusting forward hard and before long he found a rhythm, his angle changing every few thrusts to brush against John's prostate causing John to hiss or cry out each time.

Keeping up their rhythm John pulled Sherlock down kissing him to which Sherlock kissed back, his hands moving to either side of John’s head so as to keep up his movements. 

Break apart he lent his forehead against John's, his eyes looking down between them, watching as John wrapped his hand around himself.

"Let me." Sherlock said replacing John’s hand with his own. As he moved his hand in time with his thrusts John arched his back, the movement causing Sherlock to hit John’s prostate rather than brush against. This happened twice more then John was coming  hard, his muscle clenching around Sherlock which had him falling over the edge, John's name on his lips as then rode out their orgasms together.

John’s hands clung to Sherlock’s arms as he kissed along Sherlock’s neck, the both of them breathing hard.

"That..." John stated then he begun to laugh causing Sherlock to pull back and frown down at John.

"Was it bad?" He asked starting to pull back.

"No!" John almost shouted as he pulled Sherlock back to him. "No, god no, Sherlock that was fucking amazing! 

Sherlock searched John’s eyes, searched for the lie in his words but didn't find it.

"I love you." John whispered, his eyes softening. 

"I love you." Sherlock responded with a gentle kiss.

"Never ever leave. I know I ask this a lot, just please, don't leave me." John asked.

"Never." Sherlock answered as fell to his side pulling John with him till he was led on his back and John cuddled against his chest. 

They both needed a shower, but for now Sherlock held the love of his life not caring about anything else other than making John feel safe, happy and wanted.


	58. Chapter 58

John stood in the kitchen as Sherlock talked to Mrs Hudson. She had arrived less than a minute before and John had been able to get himself into the kitchen with out her getting too close. 

When Cathy had suggested having people he knew coming to vist he had agreed instantly. He wanted to see his friends, to try and get back in touch with the likes of Lestrade and Mike. Then Cathy had mentioned Mrs Hudson and he had wanted to say no. He didn't want to face the woman that had found him laying in his own blood,  a needle next to him and a knife in his hand. The image of her stood over him, calling for help had hunted him, it was, after all, ment to be Mycroft that had found him.

Now he waited for the kettle to boil as he watched Sherlock holding her hands, a warm smile on his face, a smile John rarely saw given to others. He knew how much Sherlock cared for Mrs Hudson, the woman more a second mother than a land lady and he was sure Sherlock had missed her in the time he was away. 

Suddenly two sets of eyes turn to him causing him to jump and busy himself with making the tea.

"John?" Mrs Hudson’s voice sounded, closer than it should have been so he turned to her slowly, finding her close but still out of his own personal space.

"Hello Martha." He said with a smile but his hand clasped behind his back. 

"It's good to see you. Sherlock has said you are getting better and you are hoping to come home."

"Yeah...given time."

"Of course." She said with a smile before digging into her bag and brought out a tupper wear box. "I brought some cakes, your favourite."

"Thanks. Let me just grab a plate." He said turning to pick up a plate but stopped as Martha suddenly stepped forward and took a plate from a stack of plates yet to be put away after being washed. The movement brought her into his space, space only Sherlock was allowed in.

Feeling himself stiffen he kept still as she moved back and away, taking the plate with her as she went to the coffee table and started to unpack the cakes.

"You're okay." Sherlock’s voice sounded behind him and instinctively he turned, his arms wrapping themselves around Sherlock’s waist, his forehead leaning against his chest as Sherlock wrapped his own arms around him, holding him close as he placed a kiss atop John’s head.

"Stay close." John whispered.

"Of course."

 


	59. Chapter 59

He's eyes never left John. 

This was the second time Lestrade had been able to visit, the first a week ago and it had gone well. At least Sherlock had thought it had gone well until that night he found John in the shower, curled up on the floor, his clothes still on and the water near to scalding. It had taken a day for John to come back to himself and Sherlock was lothed to have Lestrade visit again, but John had insisted and so they spent a few hours watching a game then after took a walk through the gardens.

As they walked back to the flat Sherlock walked behind as John and Greg spoke, John laughing at something said then his hand reached out to steady himself as he lost his footing, his fingers easily wrapping around Gregs hand as Greg went to help steady him.

Sherlock froze as John did, both of them looking at the point of contact.

"It's okay John." Lestrade said as he righted John then lowered his hands stepping back and giving John his space.

John frowned then turned to Sherlock his eyes blank.

"I...I need to-" John started.

"It's okay." Sherlock interrupted. "I'll be right behind you."

"Right...bye Greg." John muttered then turned, walking away.

"Where-"

"He needs to shower." Sherlock said walking the distance between him and Greg. "Dont take it personally."

"I wont." Greg sighes running his hand through his hair. "He seemed ok today."

"Today was a good day, for the both of us. Thanks for coming."

"Of course. Just let me know when you want me to visit again."

"Probably when I solve those files you brought with you." Sherlock said a small smile on his lips. "So I'll text you tonight."

"Arrogant bastard." Greg laughed shaking his head.

They walked the rest of the way to the small courtyard outside the flat in silence, but Sherlock enjoyed the DI's company.

When they entered the flat Sherlock could hear the sound of the shower, the waybthe water falling telling him that at least John was stood up and not curled up on the floor of the shower.

"Say bye to John for me." Greg said as he picked up his bag.

"Of course."

"And umm...you're looking good Sherlock."

They stared at each other for a minute then Sherlock nodded. "Thanks."

"Just remember to look after you as well."

"John does that."

"Yeah." Greg looked towards the bathroom. "Just...be careful."

"We always are." 

Greg left then, leaving Sherlock alone to deal with John. John who was stood under warm water as Sherlock entered the bathroom. Stripping his clothes off, Sherlock joined John under the shower, his arms wrapping themselves around John's waist, his hand splayed over the now filled out stomache, the muscles still slight toned even after years of no training. John stayed still as Sherlock ran his lips over the back of John's shoulder, his nose running over wet blond hair before pressing his lips to the back of John neck.

"You did well today."

"Better than Mrs Hudson."

"Yeah."

"Do you think she will ever come again?"

"Do you want her to?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll have Cathy arrange it." Sherlock presses himself more against John’s back, his arms tightening. "You have put on weight, you're starting to look more like you."

"I still don't feel like me."

"No...neither do I." Sherlock whispered.

John turned then, his eyes still dull but it didn't worry Sherlock as John lent up and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s lips.

"Take me to bed." John whispered.

"To sleep?" Sherlock asked as his hands ran up John’s back.

"After."

"After what?"

John smiled, Sherlock pleased with his act.

"Git."

"Yeah, but you love it."


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's turn.
> 
> Also this is my longest story to date! Only just realised that, but I find it funny since I never really saw this going as far as it has.
> 
> Anyways, I think these two are close to going home, we shall see.

Sherlock’s voice broke through Johns dreams causing him to wake with a start. Sitting up he was instantly on edge as he took in the dark room looking for what had caused the panic in Sherlock’s voice but finding nothing.

Turning he went to ask what was wrong when he noticed that Sherlock was still very much asleep and that he was also locked in nightmare. His face was creased up, his fist clenched and his breathing harsh.

“Sherlock-“

“No…please.” Sherlock’s voice was broken, small and so lost that it instantly broke John’s heart.

The last couple of weeks Sherlock had seemed calmer, he hadn’t had any more flash backs in that time and as far as John was aware this was the first nightmare.

“Sherlock, just listen to my voice.” He ached to touch, to reach out and sooth away the creases on Sherlock’s forehead. “You are safe, you are safe and loved and I’m right here Sherlock.”

Sherlock turned slightly towards John but the movement seemed to cause pain as he suddenly arched off the bed with a scream.

“Fuck!” John threw the covers off them both his hands inching closer to touch but he still held back. “Okay….so what did you use to do for me?” He whispered looking around as Sherlock continued to fight his dream.

Reaching out for Sherlock’s phone he quickly unlocked it and soon found his music list and hit play on a something labelled ‘home’. Instantly the room filled with violin music, a piece John knew well as Sherlock had been writing it and practising it in the months before the fall.

As the music increased in tempo Sherlock settled slightly, the creases easing, but his fists still clenched and he breathing ragged as he pulled in much needed air.

“You are safe love.” He tried again, but still he held himself back from touching.

“It hurt John.” Sherlock whispered, his voice still very broken, but John knew he was awake.

“I know.” He reached out then, his hand running gently over the back of Sherlock’s hand, but Sherlock flinched away then his eyes flew open and he stared at John.

“Is that what it feels like? When you are touched? It hurts? As though the touch is like a thousand tiny cuts?” John took in a shuddering breath at Sherlock’s words.

“Yes. But not with you…with you it is like silk, like soft warm light.” He held his hand out then, not touching but waiting for Sherlock to reach out to him. “You are so safe Sherlock.”

They held each other’s eyes as the music started to replay, the violin filling the silence as they just looked.

“Make me forget.” Sherlock said as he threaded his fingers through John’s. “I want to know what it feels like to have you John, all of you. Please, erase what they did with your touch, please John.” John allowed Sherlock to pull him down their lips meeting instinctively and before long they lost themselves to each other.


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this makes sense...let me know because I have been fighting with it and if it doesn't work will have to start again with it. Thanks in advance x x

A smile couldn’t help but form as Cathy watched Sherlock and John laughing with uncontrolled glee and happiness. They had been talking about life before the fall, before John’s dive into alcoholism, before the suicide attempt.

"But...oh god...Sherlock he was so small!"

"Yes!" Sherlock greed laughing hard. "But...he had a poison dart!"

"In a blowpipe!"

The two fell fell into laughing again, John cluching at Sherlock’s arm as he lent against his shoulder while Sherlock lent back aginst the sofa, his head tilted back as he laughed.

"That...that was one of the...funniest things..." John said though his laughter.

"Not...not as funny as...the elephant!" Sherlock pointed out cause yet more laughter.

Cathy for her part just kept smiling. This was a session were she would name a topic then sit and listen. Today she had given the topic of cases. They could talk about any case they liked and before long John had started to giggle and they soon started going through all the funnier moments they had been through.

"The matchbox!" John suddenly said, sobering quickly but still smile.

"Now that was a case." Sherlock looked to Cathy, his eyes narrowing but he too kept his smile. "Shame we cannot talk about it."

John looked her way then and sighed.

"Bloody Mycroft and his damn secrets act."

"I didn't want to sign! You made me!"

"Ten years in jail Sherlock!" John poked Sherlock in the arm as he spoke.

"Mycroft was bluffing." Sherlock’s eyes rolled as he spoke. "Besides he needs me too much to allow me to be gone for so long."

Cathy sat up. Sherlock’s words were ment in fun, he was picking on his brothers need to have Sherlock close by. Yet she could see the words affecting John in a completely different way than they had ment to. 

The smile left his lips, his blue eyes going from sparkling waters to dull swamp. His grip on Sherlock lessened and then he let go entirely, shifting ever so slightly away from him.

Sherlock watched all this, his smile slipping slowly away, a frown taking it's place as he tried to work out what has gone wrong.

"What? What did I say?"

"Why did you come back?" John asked.

"No." Cathy interupted. "Off topic John."

"I dont care." He said not even looking her way, his eyes very much on Sherlock.

"Why did you come back?"

"Mycroft called." Sherlock answered, still frowning.

"Why did he call?"

"You know why."

"I tried to kill myself."

"Yes."

John sighed, his eyes closing. "I-"

"No." Cathy said as she stood. Walking around the table between them she stopped and crouched down before John.

"John, take Sherlock’s wrist." John opened his eyes, he stared at her before doing as instructed.

"Sherlock I want you to tell John why you left."

"He knows why."

"Tell him again."

"To save you. He...Moriarty had someone on you, a sniper and they needed to see me fall."

"But Mycroft had someone on him." 

"Yes, but-"

"I could...should have gone with you."

"No. No you shouldn't have."

"Why not?" John whispered dangerously.

"Because you are my greats weakness as well as my biggest strength. They would have used you and I...I would have given them everything."

Cathy sighed as tears formed in John's eyes. She was so close to sending the two of them home, it was right there, on the horizon, but the waters ahead where still rough and uncharted.

"Go spend the evening together." She instructed squeezing both thier knees. "Do not talk about this though, we will continue in the morning."

She stood, brushing her skirt and straightening her jacket as she walked back to her desk. As the two men left she lent against the solid wood before her, her eyes closed as she held back her own feelings. John was still unstable, his change in emotional state an instant thing. Yet today was progress, today she saw him truly happy for the first time since being here. But at the end he regressed, going back to the place he had been in for so long. Her job now was to prevent that. To teach him to move forward and to not go back, to not trap himself in the state he had becone so use to. Once she had done that, then they could go home.


	62. Chapter 62

The night was clear and surprisingly warm. It was mid May, the month when the weather faught with itself as the small island of Britain prepared itself for a lack luster summer.

Smoke curled up into the air as Sherlock took another drag from his cigarette.

"I thought you'd quit." John's voice sounded behind him.

"Only when I need to."

"And you need to today?" 

"Yes John." 

"Why?"

"We can not talk about it."

"Right...fine." 

He listened as John walked back inside soon followed by the sound of the kettle being switched on. Sighing he took another drag, blowing the smoke up into the night sky.

Today they had hardly spoken, today had not been a good day. Today Sherlock felt like running for the first time since agreeing to stay. Dropping the cigarette he stood on it, putting it out then lit another. Today really was a bad day.

The sound of his phone ringing caused him to turn. John was already moving though as Sherlock made it to the sliding doors, but John reached the phone first.

"Its your brother." John said as he walked across the room and placing the phone in Sherlock’s hand.

"Thanks" Sherlock muttered as he answered the phone rasing it to his ear. "Hello brother mine."

"Sherlock." Mycroft’s voice responded the tone putting Sherlock instently on edge 

"What is it?"

"You are needed in London."

Sherlock’s eyes darted up to watch John as the smaller man finished making the tea then bringing two mugs from the open kitchen, placing one on the coffee table and walking towards Sherlock with the other.

"I can't." Sherlock said quietly as he nodded his thanks to John while he dropped his unfinished cigarette and took the tea.

"You can and you will. Several high profile people have been murdered and you are needed to help find the culprit."

"You have your own resources as well as the yard, you don't need me."

"A car is already on it's way."

"Damn it Mycroft! I said no!"

"Why? You must be lossing your mind by now? You must want to leave by now."

"Not without John."

Silence answered the a sigh.

"You will come Sherlock."

"Why? Because you ordered it of me?"

"Because this is linked to what you left unfinished."

Sherlock frowned. "Meaning?"

"Meaning you left on single line of the web intact and it is has a new spider determined to fix it."

"Moran."

"Yes.

"I can not leave John."

"Then bring him with you." Sherlock found himself staring at John through the glass door. John had come on much in the months Sherlock had been there, but he still wasn't ready to leave, to work cases, to be woth other people.

"He's not ready."

"Then come alone."

John turned to look at him then his blue eyes dark, his expression unreadable. They held each others eyes for a time then Sherlock looked away.

"I'll come." He said, the words heavy as they left his lips.

"I'll be waiting." The line went dead leaving Sherlock feeling cold in the warm night air.


	63. Chapter 63

As Sherlock walkes back into the living room John stood, his body settling into attention as he felt the discomfort and tension rolling off of Sherlock.

"I...I'm returning to London. Tonight." Sherlock said, his eyes avoiding John’s. 

"Ah." John sounded, his shoulders dropping as his stomach felt as though it had fallen through floor.

"Something has come up pertaining to my time away and Mycroft needs my assistance in rectifying it."

John narrowed his eyes at the way Sherlock spoke, his tone and vocabulary, though always proper and well mannered, had slipped to how he would talk to a client.

"You're leaving me again." Sherlock looked up then, his eyes dark, the light that seemed to light them from within, gone, causing the colours to seem dull and lifeless.

"I need to go."

"You _need_ to go."

"Yes John. Moran is dangerous and I can not let him get close to-" Sherlock cut himself off his hand raising to rub over as his face as he sighed.

"Moran?" John simply asked.

"Was Moriarty’s second."

"I see." Turning he headed towards the bedroom, his mind some how blank, his emotions safely stored away, back where they belonged, back to where they couldn't bother him.

"John...John wait!"

Sherlock had caught up with him a hand grabbing John's upper arm and turning him till Sherlock could take his face in his hand.

"I'm not leaving, not forever, just for a few days and then I will be back."

"Once you leave you wont come back."

"I will, I will always come back to you John."

"Right." John pulled himself back and again headed towards the bedroom.

"John!" 

"You need to pack."

"No...I can leave my stuff here."

"No point. Best to pack now rather than coming back for it all." John started to pile Sherlock's things into the bed as he spoke.

"John stop!" Sherlock grabbed John’s wrist, the both of them stilling as Sherlock’s thumbs ran over the scares on John's wrists.

"I'll be gone a week at the most."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes...go, go do what you need to do."

"I..." Sherlock’s hand lifted again, his fingers brushing at John's cheek as he frowned. "I don't want to go."

"But you need to."

"Yes."

"Then go...now."

"Now?"

"Yes...now...before-" John took in a breath, his chest tightening as panic tried to get out of its place locked away within him. "Just go."

"Not like this."

John step back, causing Sherlock to drop his hold on him. 

"Jo-"

"No!" John shouted. "Leave...now. On my terms, not yours."

He watched the conflict run over Sherlock’s face so he saw it when the desision was made.

"I will come back John."

"Of course." John said, his voice devoid of emotion. 

"I...bye John."

"Sherlock." John nodded as Sherlock turned and left the room. 

John waited till he heard the main door open and close before allowing the panic to take over. His legs gave out causing him to fall hard to the ground, his chest continuing to tighten causing him to struggle with breathing. Before long dizziness took over but before he passed out he was able to crawl across the floor to the wall were the panic button lived, hitting it moments before darkness took him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch....but trust


	64. Chapter 64

Cathy watched the black car pull away, her arms crossed, a frown marring her face as she waited for Mycroft to return her call, something she knew wouldn't happen any time soon. Ever since she had stood up to him about her methods he had been avoiding her and it had suited her fine, until now. The orders to allow Sherlock to leave had come through only twenty minutes before the car arrived. Now she watched the red tail lights as it disappeared down the road.

Sighing she turned from the window but before she could take another step the panic button alarm sounded. Looking across her room to the light board that indicated the room, she was less than surprised to see the apartment light flashing at her.

Leaving her office she followed after the already running Orderlies as they head in to the apartment and searched for John. Cathy walked to the bedroom, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes on the bed then to John spread out on the floor.

"In here!" She shouted going to her knees. Grabbing his wrist she felt his pulse, fast and hard even in his unconscious state, indicating that he hadn't been out long.

As the orderlies arrived she had two clear the bed while the other helped her get John into the recovery position.

"Get me a mild sedative. He will be agitated when he wakes."

"Sherlock isn't here." Steve said as he came from clearing the bed.

"Sherlock left." Cathy said dryly.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Just,  we need to look after John now." Cathy said quietly, her mind running through all the possible regressions.

"'Lock?" John muttered as he started to come round.

"No John it's Cathy." She said gently. "Just try and stay still for me okay. I want you to come too slowly."

"He's gone."

"I know."

"He...why didn't he...he didn't even ask me to go with him." John's speech was slow, harsh and forced. She knew he was trying hard to hold himself together.

"John you're not ready." He looked at her then, the saddness leaving his face, his eyes hardening to blue steel for the first time since she had met him.

"Yes I am." He sat up, slowly, something Cathy was great full for.

"John-"

"I want to be discharged."

"You signed waver John."

"Cathy, you are my doctor, discharge me."

She held his eyes then stood. "Steven can you help John to his feet." 

John's reaction was instant. He hunched his shoulder making himself smaller, his eyes shot to Steven and something close to a growl came from his throat.

Cathy looked down sadly as she held he hand up to Steven. "I'm sorry John but you're not ready. Your reaction to touch is dangerous and I can not allow you to leave."

"Then fix me!" He growled.

"I have been."


	65. Chapter 65

The flat was cold, but then of course it was. Mrs Hudson had been surprise when Sherlock had walked in, her eyes scanning behind him in search of John but finding him alone she had slumped slightly but placed a well meaning smile on her face. 

"I wasn't expecting you home Sherlock! But it so good to see you."

"Thank you Martha."

"No John?" The question sliced through his heart causing him to close his eyes.

"No...no he had to stay."

"Yes, he is still so fragile. After my last visit I had thought it to be another few months before I would hear you both pottering around up stairs."

Sherlock ignored her, turning to the stairs and walking up them two at a time. Her heard her sigh before he reached the door, her own door closing behind him.

So of course it was cold, no one had lived in the flat for nearly three months.

Pulling his phone from his coat pocket he shrugged out of the heavy material, hanging it while he opened his phone and started to devour the files Mycroft had sent him after they had met.

The kills certainly where high profile, one so high up it hadn't even been released to the public. 

Mycroft had been able to lable it on Moran, the style and motive obviously him. But so far his brother had been unable to locate and arrest him, hence the need for Sherlock.

As he read he loaded up his laptop and printer and once read he continued his reading on there, printing what he needed and basically losing himself in the hunt for Moran.

By the time he had everything pinned to the wall the sun was up. A cold cup of tea sat on the table by the sofa, it appearence not even registering in his mind but obviously Mrs Hudson had brought it up, he had no milk in to make his own tea.

Turning from the wall he walked to hisdesk to retrieve his phone, intending to call Mycroft with an update. Instead he stopped dead as the light on his phone flashed at him indicating a voicemail.

Swiping his thumb across the screen he unlocked the phone and read the missed call message. The number was Cathy's personal number.

Hitting the voicemail message he lifted the phone to his ear and waited.


	66. Chapter 66

**You have one new message. Message recived TODAY at 1:37am.**

"Sherlock...I nicked Cathys phone. Most fun I've had in a while.

Anyways, you never asked me to come. Why didn't you ask? Please explain that to me. Cathy said it's because I'm not ready...I know that, but still you could have...asked.

Right..well, I'm exhusted, I guess a panic attack takes a lot out of you after all.

Call me. I plan on keeping this phone, or at least get Mycroft to send me one.

Night."

** End of messages. To return the call press 1. To save press 2. To delete press 3. **

**. **

**. **

**. **

** Message saved. **

 

Sherlock lowered the phone staring at the screen just as a text came through.

_ *John has a new phone. He will text you within the hour. MH* _

_ ***Thank you. SH***   
_

_ _

 


	67. Chapter 67

(9:25am) This new phone is a bit complicated. JW

(9:27am)  **Hello John.** **What model is it? SH**

(9:30am) I have no idea! It was just left here all ready set up by one of Mycroft’s lackeys. JW

(9:32am)  **Knowing Mycroft it will be top of the range with all mod-cons. SH**

(9:30am) I guess. So, you got my voice mail? JW

(9:33am) **I did and...I am sorry John. I didn't think! But of course I want you here John, I will always want you with me. But...I needed to be here and please just try to understand that. SH**

(9:38am) You didn't think? I find that hard to believe, but for now I will. However I will put this out there right now. I am so mad at you Sherlock! You left me! Again! But worse than that you left in the middle of us working through that same issue from last time! I...damn it Sherlock! JW

(9:39am) Also Cathy is not happy with you for leaving. She worries about regression, about me regressing. I think you need to apologise to her when you get back.

(9:43am) **I know you're angry John, of course you are and I wouldn't expect anything less form you. And again I am sorry John. Also you wont regress John, i know you and you wont allow it. As for Cathy she will need to just understand that I needed to leave. SH**

(9:46am) Cathy said you need to get over yourself. JW

(9:47am)  **No she didn't. SH**

(9:51am) Maybe not in so many words but that was what she implied. Right I have to go. Cathy is limiting my time to talk...well text. Also Harry is coming today, I guess you forgot about that,  but I'm going to try, I owe it myself to at least try. I'll text you later, let you know how it went. JW

(9:55am)  **I..damn you know how to make me loose my words! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I've left you to face her alone, I'm sorry I wont be there but I am so proud of you for going through with it. SH**

(9:59am) Thanks...I really have to go, just be careful with this case, please look after yourself. JW

(10:03am)  **I'll be fine John. I have Mycroft and Lestrade watching my back. SH**

(10:08am) I would rather watch your back, it would make me feel so much better. But for now, please just promise me you will look after yourself. JW

(10:10am)  **I promise John. SH**

(10:12am) Thank you. Bye for now Sherlock. JW

(10:13am) **Bye John. SH**


	68. Chapter 68

(22:43pm) Well that sucked. JW

(22:55pm) Sherlock? JW

(23:10pm) Okay so you're busy...or sleeping, or in your mindpalace. What ever it is just please text me when you get this. I wont be asleep...I can't sleep, I miss you next to me. JW

(2:13am) **John? SH**

(2:15am) I'm up. JW

(2:18am)  **I'm sorry I missed you before, I was in my mindpalace as you already guessed. Though you should try and sleep John. SH**

(2:22am) Sleeping is for the weak. Besides my head wont shut down! I...Harry didn't stay long, she tried to hug me and well I let her then didn't speak. I dont really remember what happened, what was said, Cathy said I blanked out. I haven't done that in weeks Sherlock because you...no...sorry...I wont blame you for this. I need to learn to deal with this alone. JW

(2:25am) **I'm sorry John. I want to help, can I help without physically being there? Please tell me if there is. SH**

(2:29am) Just tell me about the case. What have you found? JW

(2:35am) **Moran is efficient. He got to his targets easily, one was found in his office, in the very heart of the Palace of Westminster. How he did it is still not clear, but he did. Also he covers his trail like the expert he is. I can not track him! He dissappears off cctv like a ghost, he obviously knows where they are all located. SH**

(2:38am) So what is his motive? Are the victims connected? JW

(2:43am) **They all had dealings with Moriarty. I'm still working on what their connection to him was, I just known they had either met with him or contacted him. SH**

(2:45am) Dodgy dealings? I mean he did do bad things for people...or got them to do bad things using black mail. Were they all politicians? JW

(2:58am)  **Not all of them. But all had massive influences in certain circles. Also please dont mention to anyone about the politicians, it hasn't been released to the public as yet. SH**

(3:05am) Anyone of importance? JW

(3:07am) **Foreign Minister. SH**

(3:12am) Well shit...JW

(3:15am)  **Indeed. Its late John, please try and sleep. SH**

(3:22am) Not without you. Not without your arms around me, your lips on my hair, your breath brushing my ear, your legs tangled with mine. Not without me kissing your neck, your jaw, your lips... I know I need to heal for me, but I need you Sherlock. I need your strength, you care, your heart. I need you! JW

(3:25am)  **Give me an hour. SH**


	69. Chapter 69

(4:45am) _What are you doing? MH_

(4:46am)  **I can do this at the hospital. Just send everything there. It's only an hour from London, I can travel back and forth. SH**

 **** ****(4:50am) ** __** _Very well. Arrangements have been made and you will have all you need to do what you need. Also a car has been dispatched for your personal use. Please dont use it to smuggle John out, Cathy has made it very clear that he is still unstable and should not be moved from her care. MH_

(4:54am) **I left him because I knew he wouldn't be able to come with me. I will always do what is best for John Watson. That is why I've returned. He needs me Mycroft and I need him, that means more to us both than anything else. SH**

(5:00am)  _Very well brother mine. I will expect an update by evening. MH_


	70. Chapter 70

John hadn't realised he had finally given into sleep until he was woken by arms wrapping themselves around his waist, pulling him back till lips could be pressed into his hair and warm breath ghosted over his ear while long legs tangled themselves with his own shorter legs.

Sluggishly he tried to turn but he was held fast, a deep velvet voice whispering in his ear.

"Sleep John."

"Mmk." He mumbled leaning back aginst Sherlock, allowing his eyes to fall close and letting sleep take him.

.~.~.~.

When he woke it was to light fall breaking through the curtins. He felt warm, safe, and though it had only been a few hours he felt better.

As he woke more he snuggled down into his pillow then sat up and turned to look at a still sleeping Sherlock.

"So you did come." John whispered reaching out to brush at a wayward curl.

"Of course I did." Sherlock opened his eyes taking John’s hand in his own and pressing a kiss to the palm. John watched him with dark eyes, lust building up in his stomach while love filled his chest.

"Are you staying?" John questioned cautiously.

"Yes." Sherlock sat up, taking John’s face in his hands. "I can work here, Mycroft has arranged everything so I can do it properly as well as sending a car if I need to nip into London, something I will do when you are due your sessions with Cathy. I wont leave you like that again, I promise and I am so so sorry John."

John felt himself smile then he was straddling Sherlock’s legs and kissing him for all he was worth. Pulling back to catch his breath he looked down at silver rimmed black eyes.

"Is this okay?" John asked as he rotated his hips, his hardening arousal brushing against Sherlock’s.

"Ye...yesss." Sherlock let his head fall against John’s chest.

"Can we? Like this?" John asked threading his fingers through dark curls.

"Yes...please yes!"


	71. Chapter 71

Cathy really wasn't going to let him off as easily as John had. She had been sat, patiently waiting for nearly twenty minutes, her hands clasped neatly in her lap while her blue eyes just kept on looking at Sherlock.

"I won't apologie." He finally said expecting some sort of reaction but she did nothing.

"Besides John is okay with everything and..oh...this isn't about you." Cathy blinked slowly, continuing to wait. "You're angry on John behalf. You don't want me to apologise for leaving, you want me to apologise for the trouble I caused, for the regression he is showing, though it is only small, he will start wanting to see people again given ti-"

"Three months, possibly longer." Cathys voice was soft yet he knew he was now being reprimanded.

"What?"

"It will take three months, possibly longer for him to get back to the stage he was at."

Sherlock frowned as he shifted in his seat, his mind racing at her words.

"Why so long?"

"Because that was how long it took in the first place."

_No...I couldn't have caused a set back that big._

"But...he was doing so well."

"Yes and our next step would have been to have his anchor, you, to leave him for short periods of time when others came to see him. But instead you left him to face his sister alone."

"Why didn't you stop it then?" Sherlock growled as he glared at her.

"Because the damage was already done!" Sighing she finally moved, uncrossing her legs and running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry Sherlock, this wasn't all your fault and I am blaming it on you when I shouldn't."

She stood then walking to her mini kitchen in her office and making both her and Sherlock a drink while the two of them took the time to calm down. When she returned she held out a mug of coffee to Sherlock, who took it, greatful to do something with his hands.

He watched her as she sat back down and sipped at her drink but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"How are your dreams?"

"My dreams?" Sherlock asks confused.

"John thought you forgot them. He had been unsure wether to ask you about them or not so I told him I would."

"I haven't dreamt since the flashback episode."

"Not according to John. You talk in your sleep and well he told me you have cried out more than once."

Sherlock narrowed his then shook his head.

"I'll talk to John about this."

"Very well."

"So what is the plan for John?"

"We keep trying. He could surprise us all but until we try we wont truly know what damage was done."

Silence took over the room once again, the sound of sipping the only thing heard until Sherlock finally spoke.

"I am sorry Cathy."

"I know Sherlock. So lets try to fix it."


	72. Chapter 72

Closing the door behind him he lent against it for a moment, his eyes searching around for John.

"John?" He called out as he searched.

"Out here." A voice answered fom the direction of the open patio door.

Pushing away from the door he walked through the kitchen then the livingroom, now full of pictures and evidence that Sherlock had set up that morning, going through the case with John for the first time. Glancing at it all as he moved he simply walked pass it all and headed outside to find John.

As he took in the man sat on the small wooden bench, a folder in hand Sherlock couldn't help but smile. This was how it was ment to be, how it always used to be, with John reading up about the current case, making notes and helping Sherlock in a way no one else could.

"This Moran was in Afghanistan at the same time as me." John said as Sherlock sat next to him.

"Yes, though in a different area."

"Yeah, I had heard of him though, we all did, The Sniper. We all had respect for him...what happened?"

"He went AWOL a month or so after you got shot. I don't fully know how Jim got his claws into him but he did and I think Jim had control of him a long time before he finally disappeared."

"Why do you think that?"

"High profile killings in Afghanistan. Some influential trib leaders where killed, the weapon none army issue but definitely a sniper."

"You think this was Moran?"

"I dont think I know."

"How?"

"The same weapon was used on the current victims."

"Well I guess that makes sense. So why is he doing it?"

"Jim...always about him."

"But he's dead...right?" John looked concerned as he lowered the folder to his knees.

"Yes John, he is very much dead."

"Okay, good." 

They held each others eyes for a moment then John sighed.

"How did it go?" John asked quietly.

"She is mad at me, but only on your behalf."

"I know, I tried to talk her down but she was having none of it."

"She is worried about a set back. That you will...she worries about having peole come see you."

"I know."

"And?" Sherlock asked worry in his voice.

"I don't want to see anyone else, the thought of having anyone else, other than you or Cathy, is...it hurts."

"Oh."

"But it has always hurt." John continued causing Sherlock to look at him with wide eyes. "Having Greg and Mrs Hudson visit was not easy, it hurt and I wantes nothing more than to run, but I didn't because you were here and I knew you would help if I needed it. When Harry came that comfort was gone and well you know what happened."

"I'm sorry."

John looked at him a small smile on his face. "I know, and I forgive you."

Sherlock felt tears building as he watched John smile, watched his eyes shine even as the pain in them still could be seen.

"I love you." Sherlock whispered raising a hand to John's face. "I am so in love with you John Watson and I will never do what I did again. I want to have you with me, always."

"Good." John said simply as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Sherlock’s mouth, catching the single tear that had escaped. "So lets fix us then go home, together."

"Yes." 

 "But first...Moran." John opened the folder and together they went through it.


	73. Chapter 73

The kettle clicked on causing John to look up with a frown as Sherlock went about making tea. Smiling slightly he put down the file he had in his hands and just watches as Sherlock grabbed two mugs then paused, glanced at his watch and grabbe another.

"Expecting someone?" John asked, his smile returning to a frown. They hadn't discussed a vist from anyone and Cathy had already come to see them today so why the third cup? 

"Lestrade is coming with Mycroft." Sherlock answered as he seemed to reluctantly grab a forth mug.

"When was that orginised?" John askes trying hard to hide his panic from his voice.

"Yesterday...I told you." Sherlock looked up then and paused. "I didn't tell you." He whispered, his eyes wide as he pulled out his phone and cursed.

John for his part just sat still, he concentrated on his breathing, taking in slow breaths as Sherlock made his way around to John and knelt on the floor before him.

"I'm sorry...I'll tell them to not come, to leave." As he said this a knock sounded on the door causing John to jump, his hand grabbing Sherlock’s wrist in such a way that he could feel Sherlock’s pulse.

"They're already here." John said quietly his eyes on the door.

"Yes, but I'll tell them to leave." Sherlock answered as he lent up and pressed his face to the side of John's neck. "I'm so sorry John, I was going to tell you, I thought I had told you." 

John hummed, leaning his head down to rest atop of Sherlock’s. "Let them in. I'll go have a shower."

"John." Sherlock’s voice said his name in a way John knew well, he was asking him to stay.

"I...I don't know if I can."

"Try?" It was very much a question, he knew Sherlock wouldn't force him to do anything, but he would always ask him to try.

Another knock came causing Sherlock to growl against John’s neck the vibrations sending a shiver down John's spine.

"I'll try." John finally answered turning to Sherlock as Sherlock looked up causing their lips to brush and a smile turning up both their lips.

"Or we could just send them away." Sherlock said not moving away at all as he spoke.

John laughed slightly then pressed his lips harder against Sherlock’s for a moment.

"Go answer the door Sherlock." 

"Later then?" Sherlock asked with a sly grin.

"Later." 


	74. Chapter 74

Sherlock sighed as he leaned against the door, the cool wood on his hot flushed skin a welcome contrast to the heat of John's lips on his back.

"John." He moaned as the lips ran over one of the longer scars on his back, the remembered pain slowly being erased by the soft loving kisses John gave it.

"I have you Sherlock." John whispered as his hands run up Sherlock’s sides to his shoulders then down his arms where he took hold of Sherlock’s wrists.

Tilting his head back as John started to kiss across his shoulder he smiled then stilled as John started to lift his hands and pressed them against the door.

Lifting his head back up he looked at the plain door with wide eyes as the room went cold and dark.

"No." He whispered as the lips on his shoulder turned to teeth and bit down hard causing him scream out and struggle against the hands holding him.

"Stay still bitch." The voice behind him was rough, hard, demanding as the hands on his wrists tightened. "You are mine to do as I wish, when I wish and however I wish. You are mine Sherlock Holmes."

"No." He tired again as tears ran down his face and blood ran over his shoulder and back.

"Sherlock...oh god." John's voice was distant, panicked but he couldn’t respond as the body behind him kept him pinned and submissive as it did what it wanted.

"Sherlock! Sherlock please you're safe, I have you and you are safe!" He wanted to believe John, he really did, but the pain was too real and this wouldn't be the first time that he had imagined John being with him.

Feeling arms wrap around his waist he let ut a sob as he knew what was to come next, but instead he was pulled away from the door and guided into a shower.

"No, no! I'm sorry, please, I am so sorry just don't...I...I dont want to be cold!"

"It's okay Sherlock, the water is warm." John's voice again.

"No, it is never warm." Sherlock whimpered.

"Trust me love. Please, this is warm, safe, and I am right here."

"Lies."

"No it's not. Look at me Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned then look down instantly losing himself in John's blue eyes.

"John."

"Yes, I'm right here. You're safe."

Sherlock blinked, his eyes leaving John’s to look around the warm bright bathroom. 

"Oh." 

"It's okay, it was another flashback."

"I'm not free of it yet."

"Okay, let me just grab our robes and call Cathy." John said gently taking Sherlock’s hand. "This way." 

Allowing John to lead them out of the bathroom and into their bedroom he tried to keep himself in the present.

"Here, put this on." John handed him his blue robe which he took and put on, all the while staring at John. 

"You pinned my wrist." Sherlock stated as John tied his robe closed.

"Yes." John nodded sadly. "But realised my mistake the moment you said no, so I let you go. But you had already gone."

"He would push me against the wall when they allowed me to have my arms free."

"The shower?" John asked gently, taking the ties of Sherlock’s robe to tie together.

"Always cold, always freezing. They would soak the floor with it...I never had clothes."

He watched John nod, his lips tightly sealed, his eyes dark with anger.

"Will I ever be able to do everything I want with you John?"

"I don't know. But it wont matter, I only want you safe and happy, everything else is a bonus."

"I wanted to show how proud I was of you today, how you delt with Leatrade and Mycroft was exceptional."

John smiled closing the distance between them to take Sherlock’s face in his hands.

"I know. But it's okay Sherlock. I think we all forgot that you too are recovering, yourself included."

"I never forget John." 

"I'm sorry." 

"It's not your fault, it's theirs and they are all dead."

"They are very lucky that they are. Come on, you make tea I'll call for Cathy."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why am I making tea."

"Simple distraction. Like you said you're not free yet, making tea should hopefully keep you here."

"Okay."

John smiled placing a small kiss to Sherlock’s lips. "Love you."

"Yes John, and I you."


	75. Chapter 75

The sound of the door opening caused John to turn from were he was watching Sherlock and raise his hand as Cathy walked it. He indicated for her to stop as Sherlock glances her way then looked back to John. Sherlock was sat in the corner of the kitchen, cupboards on either side while John was sat just on the carpet area before it turned to tile for the kitchen.

"She is safe." John said softly.

"You keep saying safe, I'm not safe John. They have me is some god awful cell, its cold, dirty and it stinks!"

"But you're not there anymore Sherlock. We are currently in a hospital, its posher than any hospital I have ever been in but its still one."

"Why are we in hospital?" Sherlock asked with a slight frown.

"Healing." John gestured to Cathy. "Cathy is our doctor."

John licked his lips his eyes trying hard to find a part of Sherlock that was here, not trapped in the past. But so far Sherlock saw John as an image conjured up by his mind, as something to protect against what was really happening to him.

"Sherlock." Cathy said gently as she came closer yet stayed behind John.

"Can you do something for me?" She asked as she held out both her hands. "You have been using a pressure point on your hand during our one on one sessions. Its a technique I was hoping would help ground you. Will you try it? Its here." John didn't see what Cathy did but he saw Sherlock watching her then look down at his hands.

The three fell silent as Sherlock shook his head then using his thumb and forefinger on his right hand pinched the are between the thumb and forefinger on his left hand. 

"Thats it, keep increasing till it hurts." Cathy instructed.

John faught with himself as he waited. He wanted to crawl over to Sherlock, to wrap his arms around him and just make it all go.

"We have a case." John tried instead as Sherlock continued doing what Cathy instructed. "Umm we need to figure out how to catch Moran."

Sherlock’s reaction wasn't at all what John expected. One second he was concentrating on what he was doing the next he sharnk back against the cupboards, his eyes wide and filled with more fear than John had seen before.

John growled as Cathy gasped. 

"Mycroft told me they where all dead." She whispered.

"Sherlock told me the same." John moved then, getting to his feet and looked over at the livingroom. On the coffee table were sevral pictures of Moran, it was in perfect line of sight of where Sherlock was making the tea.

"John" Sherlock's voice was so lost when he spoke "John please, please don't go." 

John knelt back down, this time right before Sherlock. "I'm not going anywhere Sherlock."

"Moran-" 

"He's after you."

"Yes." Sherlock looked up, his eyes clear. "I should have told you."

"Yes, but it's okay. We will find him first." John reached out, delving his fingers into Sherlock’s hair, an action that lightened Sherlock’s eyes and brought his attention fully onto John. 

"And when we find him he will hope Mycroft got to him first."


	76. Chapter 76

"Can I sleep?" Sherlock asked as he fell onto the sofa. It had been a long day, far too long, he didn't even care that the sun had yet to set. He just wanted to curl up in bed, with John holding him and sleep.

Across from him Cathy sat in the single armchair while John made tea.

"Soon." She said with a smile. "First, can you tell me what triggered the flashback?"

"I pinned his wrist to a door." John said without missing a beat. "We where...having fun, I lost myself and over stepped."

"So you have spoken about sexual acts that the both of you are comfortable with?" Cathy asked looking to John then to Sherlock who had found himself heating up at the line of questioning.

"Yes." John again answered, this time as he brought the tea, giving one mug to Cathy and placing Sherlock’s on the coffee table before retrieving his own mug and sitting on the sofa by Sherlock’s feet.

"Sherlock?" Cathy asked, to which he rolled his eyes.

"Yes Cathy,  we spoke about it."

"And did you both come to an agreement."

"Yes." Sherlock and John answered together.

"I'm not going to get much out of you on this matter, am I?"

"For me, that part of our relationship is for us only." John said as he put his mug down, then started to pick up the pictures of Moran.

"I hate being pinned down." Sherlock whispered but he knew the both of them heard. "I hate not being able to get away if I want to."

"So what John did was not acceptable to you."

"No, and I realised what I had done the moment he said no." John tried to defend.

"He didn't do it on purpose." Sherlock said as he sat up but sat up, close to John, taking the pictures from his hands. "Moran never asked, he never made it easy and he most definitely never made me feel safe. He took what he wanted when he wanted, how ever he wanted." He stared down at the photos, the images a contrast to the man he knew. In the pictures the man was clean cut, well dressed in a tailored suit and dress coat. He was a far cry from the man with days old stubble, dirt covered jeans and messed up hair that Sherlock remembered. But it was still him and he was surprised it had taken so long to have a reaction to Moran being so close once again.

"Sherlock?" John's voice was soft, as soft as the fingers now in his hair.

"I...John." He looked up as his heart pounded in his chest, as the fear that had been kept locked away in his chest slowly seeped free and spread through his body.

"He wont hurt you, not again, not with me around."

"Does Mycroft know?" Cathy asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"No." Sherlock answered, not looking away from John.

"Sherlock he needs to know about the risk." John warned.

"No." Sherlock said shaking his head. "Moran will know, he will know Mycroft is tracking him harder than he is at the moment and he will go deeper, he will disappear. This way he keeps himself more open because he wants me to find him."

"Does he know about me?" John asked causing Sherlock to frown. "Does he know we are here? That I am, for all intents and purposes, sectioned under the mental health act?"

"I, don't know."

"Maybe we should. Let him know that is."

"John." Cathy warned. "There are innocent people here."

"What if there wasn't?" John said with a smile that made Sherlock feel as though the old John was starting to return.


	77. Chapter 77

Falling into the bed John closed his eyes as he let out a breath and covered his eyes with his arm.

"That is probably the most graceful I have ever seen you." Sherlock said with a hint of a smile to his voice.

"You have never seen me at a firing range." John countered and waited for a snarky reply. But when none came he lowered his arm and pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Sherlock. The man in question was stood by the door, his eyes staring as a silent 'oh' formed on his lips.

"Sherlock?" John tried, afraid that Sherlock had slipped back into his flashback.

"I would very much like to see that." Sherlock finally said as his eyes focused back onto John.

John smiled, "Oh really?" 

"Yes...Mycroft has a great facility you could use."

"Let me guess, huge wearhouse set up, multiple rooms, plenty of targets and distractions."

"Yes." Sherlock said breathlessly.

"Could be fun." John shrugged as he fell back onto the pillow.

"Yes, lots of fun."

"Maybe when we get out of here. Its been close to two years since I even touched my gun."

The silence that followed that was not at all comfortable. They both knew what had happened to the gun and where it currently was, also it would probably take at least three psych evaluations before Mycroft even let John have it back.

Sighing John licked his lips then held out his arms. "Come here."

Feeling the bed dip as Sherlock climbed on he smiled as a long warm body wrapped itself around him.

Pulling Sherlock closer he lent down and pressed a kiss to the top of his curly hair.

"We need to sleep." John mummered feeling his body relax at the weight led ontop of him.

"What about the case?"

"We have a plan yes?"

"If Mycroft can help."

"Then we sleep and sort it all tomorrow, okay?"

"K..."

"What?" 

"I was enjoying myself, before."

John felt a smile form as he tightened his arms.

"Oh?"

Rather than an answer, he felt Sherlock’s lips on his neck and a shiver run down his spine.

"Sherlock..."

"I'm sure."

"Good."


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well ummm this is dark...very dark. Trigger warning for rape, nothing happens but words are said.

Something had gone wrong. 

The silence from the radio informed her of that much.

Across from her she watched as Mycroft paced, a phone to his ear as he spoke in quick sharp words. The mask he wore so well had slipped, his anger plain as day as his tone went from commanding to out right demanding.

"I don't care! Get in there and get them out!" This caused Cathy to catch her breath but she didn't allow herself to overreact until she knew the whole story.

Finally Mycroft stopped pacing, his cold blue eyes now alight with silver fire as they turned on Cathy.

"He knew." Mycroft said as he lowered his phone. "Moran knew everything."

Slowly, Cathy smiled. 

"Yes he did."

.~.~.~.

Sherlock was shaking as he stood with his back to the wall, his chest tight as he tried to mask his frantic breathing. 

It had gone wrong. The whole plan had unraveled the moment Moran had cut the power, had blocked all coms and had gotten to Sherlock and John in record time.

John had faught, he had faught well, disarming Moran in seconds, but John was week. He didn't have the strength he once did and Moran had him out cold within a minute, leaving Sherlock with the man he feared the most.

"Oh how I have waited for this." Moran had whispered as he stepped over John’s motionless body. "You left me Sherlock, you took away what was mine and I'm here to reclaim it."

"I was never your's."

"Still lying to yourself I see. Tell me, when he touches you what really goes through your mind? Is his touch you can feel? Or is mine?" Moran had him pressed against the glass door leading to the patio. 

"It was never your touch, even back then, it was always John, now I have it for real and nothing will take that away."

"Really?" Moran, still facing Sherlock, pointed his gun behind him, aiming it right at John's head.

"No!" 

"No?" Sherlock flinched at the tone, the reaction causing Moran to smile devilishly. 

"What have I told you about that word? You are still mine Sherlock."

"No...I'm not." With that Sherlock pulled open the sliding door and ran.

Now he was hiding, hiding from his past, from his fear, from his nightmare made flesh.

"Did John ever play rough with you Sherlock?" Moran's voice called, closer than it had been but still far away. "Has he taken you yet? Have you allowed him that? Or is that still, very much mine?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, he should have allowed John that, should have let it happen because if he had then he wouldn't still be feeling Moran, it would be John and he wouldn't be feeling the current self loathing and disgust he was current experiencing.

"I bet he asked and you refused. You would have said that you weren't ready, that you couldn’t, not just yet. But we both know it's because you didn't want to do away with me. You need that reminder of what we had, of the pleasure I brought you, of the love I gave you. You will never be rid of it Sherlock, I promise you that much."

The voice was getting louder, and Sherlock now had his hands pressed to his mouth, smoothering the fearful sobs as tears fell unchecked down his face.

"Moriarty wanted you for himself before you made him kill himself. He wanted the chance to break you, to make you come undone and worship him as you kissed his feet." Images of him doing just that flashed before his eyes, but they were Morans feet he had kissed.

"Do you think I did him proud?" The voice was now just feet away, just around the corner from where Sherlock was hiding. But Sherlock was routed to the spot, his body over come with paralysing terror.

"Ah." Moran sounded causing Sherlock to open his eyes, his heart rate accelerating, his breathing increased as he took in Moran smiling at him. 

"Found you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I had no idea about Cathy! Not until I wrote the words!!!!!


	79. Chapter 79

Then lights had gone out. That wasn't meant to happen, was it?

Searching out Sherlock, he reached out his hand only for long fingers to take hold of his wrist and then a light turned on.

"I'm here, John." Sherlock whispered as he shone the light from his phone towards the floor.

"This is wrong."

"I know, and my signal has gone on my phone."

Turning, John picked up the land line phone and held it to his ear but no dialing tone was heard.

"Well this sucks."

"Agreed. Moran knew what to expect."

"Mycroft?"

"His men are here, but wether they were ready or not is something to be seen."

"So what do we-" the sound of the door opening cut him off. The light from Sherlock’s phone disappeared and John was pulled back until his back was pressed against Sherlock’s front. Warm breath hovered over his ear while a pounding heart beat against his back. Sherlock was scared.

Watching through the darkness he first saw the gun, then the arms until a figure walked pass the patio doors, only a few feet from where they where stood.

Lifting his free hand he gently pulled Sherlock’s fingers free from where they were holding his wrist. He felt the resistance but soon Sherlock relented. Once free he moved forward, his foot falls just as quiet as the other mans.

His prey now only a foot away allowed him to pounce. Quickly, had the gun out of the other mans hands but as the struggle continued he knew he wouldn't win. John was still on medication, he was still in recovery from the overdose and his body just wasn't up to fighting a man who clearly kept in shape and wasn't suffering from a mental break.

There was one thing however that, even as John felt himself weaken, triggered as something of a break through. He didn't react to the touch of the stranger. Sure he didn't like, sure he wanted it to stop, but he didn't lose it, he kept in control right up to the moment that something was smashed forcefully onto his head and the world disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the jump around with the time line is not too confusing x x


	80. Chapter 80

_Move....fight....kick....scream....just do something you worthless idiot!_

But he couldn't.

Moran had Sherlock pressed up against the wall,  a knife to his throat while his free hand was fighting with the buckle on Sherlock's belt.

"When I get this off you be ready for a lashing unlike any you have experienced."

"My...croft." Sherlock stammed, hating the weekness shown in that one word.

"Your brother will be looking in the wrong place." The buckle came undone and Moran pulled to free the belt from the loops of Sherlock’s trousers. 

"You led me away from John, but you backed yourself into a corner. Here no one will hear your screams, and I will make you scream."

Bitting back the whimper that threatened, Sherlock tried to get his mind to work, tried to think of a solution, to find a way out. But Moran had always been able to stop his thought processes with pure fear. 

When he had been caught he had only been able to escape after Moran had been else where for nearly a week. In that week Sherlock had found his wits coming back to him and he soon worked out how to get free, a process he had needed to act on fast because he knew if Moran was to return then he would continue to be trapped.

So now he was right back in that cell and he physically couldn't do anything, even as his mind continued to shout abuse at him.

Once Moran had the belt free he pulled back on the knife and quickly turned Sherlock till he was facing the wall.

"Hands up whore." Moran ordered and to Sherlock’s shame he did it, placing his hands flat against the wall. Lowering his head he let the tears flow as his shirt was cut from his back exposing his already fully scared back to the chill of the air.

"My, my, I really did make you a work of art." Shivering as Morans hand ran over his back, tracing the scars he bit his lower lip to keep from protesting, protesting would only make it worse.

"Now, how about I add one, right here." Moran's finger ran from his left hip and across his lower back, it was one of the few areas still unscathed.

"Hold still, but please, dont let me stop you from screaming."

Felling Moran step back he slowly lifted his head and finally something snapped.

The belt suddenly cracked followed quickly by sharp stinging pain, but he didn't scream.

Opening his eyes he blinked as the pain helped to clear his mind.

_"You are safe, I have you and you are safe."_

That was a lie, but it was only a lie because Sherlock had lied to John. John couldn't keep him safe if he didn't know all the facts.

Another crack and another jolt of pain but still he kept quiet.

But John could keep him safe, could save him, could help him, he just needed to trust him. But first he needed to help himself.

Felling the air shift as the make shift whip started to make it decent, he moved.

Stepping aside, he heard the belt make contact with the wall. He then spun and using all his weight he brought his fist up and ploughed it straight into Moran's nose. He felt the bone give as well as heard it and then the warmth of blood covered his hand as Moran staggered back the belt dropping from his hand as he raised both to cover his face.

Crouching, Sherlock picked up the belt, his eyes never leaving Moran as he straightened and continued to walk forward.

"You son of a bitch." Moran screamed. "You brok-"

Moran's words where cut short as Sherlock raised the belt and brought it down hard, the buckle connecting with Moran's face causing the man the scream out and cover his head with his arms as he fell to the ground.

Raising the belt again he blinked as it came down and watched as the darkness was replaced by light and he saw as the buckle cut through flesh of Morans head, rendering the man unconscious. Fasanated he made a note to ask Molly to help him study whipping techniques and to look into the marks left behind using diffrent objects.

Kneeling, he took hold of Moran's still arms and pushed the man onto his front before wrapping the bloodied belt aroud Moran's wrists. He then searched the man for his gun and any other weapons before backing away. 

"SHERLOCK!" 

Smiling slightly, he shook his head, of course John would have saved him, but he was glad he had done it himself.

"In here." He said, knowing that John would hear him.

"Sher...fuck!" John was beside him instantly but his attention was on Sherlock's back not him.

"I'm okay John."

"Fuck that," John growled.

Smiling, Sherlock turned and took John’s face in his hands. He searched the deep blue depths for a moment before running his thumb over the blood still seeping from John's head.

"I'm as fine as you are John."

"I'm not fine Sherlock." John said in a shaky voice. "I am so far from fine, fine is a whole other universe."

"Then I guess I'll just have to bring you back."

Leaning forward he presses his lips to John's and slowly started to kiss him.


	81. Chapter 81

He didn't understand. But then he never understands all that happens when it comes to the Holmes brothers, but this, this he really couldn't get his head around.

"So, wait." John said as held up a hand, almost like a child wanting to ask a question as the adults talked over him.

Looking up from where he sat on the sofa, he took in the two brothers. Mycroft was in his three piece suit but the tie had been pulled at and the top button undone. Sherlock had no shirt, but white bandages where wrapped around him in an attempt to keep his wounds safe. John had done what he could, but he wanted Sherlock to go to hospital, soon, so that he could be stitched up properly.

"Cathy was helping Moran. Cathy, the woman who was my doctor. The woman that you," he pointed at Mycroft, "had given my care to. The woman that I had opened myself up to and told things to, things that I could never have told anyone else! What the fuck."

"John-"

"No Sherlock...no! You..." he stood and walked to Mycroft his temper rising as he poked the taller man hard in the chest. "I trusted you!"

"I know John, and I failed you. Both of you."

"My doctor Mycroft," he growled. "Where is she?"

"Already taken into custody. She will be held in the same facility as Moran with out charge and for as long as I deem fit."

Glaring for a moment John finally let himself slump. Everything had been a lie, it had started two and a half years ago, when would it end?

"Mycroft, we need to go home." Sherlock said as John felt him come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. 

Not caring of the company, John turned so as to lean his forehead against Sherlock’s chest and closed his eyes.

"Of course. I will arrange everything, a car will be waiting for you when you are ready."

"Tonight." Sherlock said as his arms wrapped themselves around John's back.

"Yes." John felt the pause, felt the sorry that never left Mycroft's lips and then the sound of the door closing.

"John?"

"All a lie. I have been lied to for so long, now I dont know why I am still surprised when I learn about it."

"Not all of it was a lie."

"No?" John looked up, not at all ashamed of the tears held in his eyes.

"No John." Sherlock took John’s face in his hands, his eyes searing as he stared down. "I love you. Please don't think that a lie, please don't put what we have worked for in the same box as everything else."

Holding Sherlock’s eyes he just stay quiet and searched while he waited.

Slowly Sherlock smiled. 

"This is real. We are going home, we will find our own help, if we need it. But most of all we will continue to heal each other.  Please John, trust me, if you are to trust anyone, trust me."

"I've always trusted you. But then-"

"I know." Sherlock sounded panicked as the smile left his face. "I know, and I'm so-"

"No, stop! I know you are sorry and I forgive you, I forgave you a while ago."

"Oh."

John smiled, a small laugh escaping him. It was always nice hearing Sherlock surprised.

"It's the trust we still need to work on, we both know that. But I know you love me, I know you're sorry and I know you are the only true thing in my life right now." Leaning up he brushed his lips against Sherlock’s, but didn't outright kiss him. 

Sighing he lent his forehead against Sherlock’s and closed his eyes.

"Take me home Sherlock."

 


	82. Chapter 82

By the time they returned home it was close to five in the morning.

John had insisted that they visit Barts before going home, he wanted Sherlock to have his back looked at, even though Sherlock had informed John that he had experinced worse.

"Yes and look at how well they healed!"

"I can't, they're on my back." Sherlock had countered but soon shut up as John focused his gaze on him. "Fine. But I will not be kept in, is that understood?"

"Of course, as long as you do everything I ask of you when it comes to your continued care."

"Very well."

So two hours after arriving at the hospital they finally walked through the black door to their home.

"This is weird." John said as Sherlock started to walk up the stairs but stopped to look at John.

"Weird how?"

"You, here, on the stairs. The last time we were here together we both ended up running from the police."

Turning fully, Sherlock slowly sunk down to sit on the stairs as John came and stood on the bottom step causing them to be at the same hight.

"John, it's been over twenty-four hours since either of us slept, we are both hungry, tired, drained and probably not ready to deal with this right now."

The smile John gave him at that moment caused a flutter in his chest that spread a warmth through the rest of his body.

"That sounds weird coming from you."

"Yes, you're the practical one."

"Agreed." John mimicked Sherlock’s tone perfectly causing Sherlock to roll his eyes.

"Emotions are high right now."

"Yes."

"I can't...not now John. Please just let us go to bed, our bed and just sleep."

"Okay, but can I please do one thing?"

"Anything."

He smiled as John lent forward and kissed him, really kissed him. Sighing he ran his hands up John’s arms, kissing him back until he became dizzy. Pulling back he took in a deep breath, his eyes still closed as John ran his fingers softly over Sherlock’s face.

"Welcome home, love." John whispered causing Sherlock’s eyes to open.

Searching John’s eyes he felt a calm ease over him. He really was home, with John, with the love of his life and he would always be home as long as John was with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that....is it.
> 
> Wow i finished it! 82 chapters long and nearly 45000 words. This is by far my longest story and I have loved writing it.
> 
> I want to thank each and every one of you that has left kudos, bookmarked and commented on this story you have kept me going.
> 
> However if it hadn't been for AlwaysJohn I think I would not have gotten here at all. So thank you AJ you have been a huge help, a great motivator so this story is for you.
> 
> So if you got this far with me then please let me know what you thought either by comment or kudo all mean a lot.
> 
> Thank you x x
> 
> (Decided to write an epilogue so keep a look out for that x x)


	83. Epilogue

Looking down at the body before him, he let his eyes run over the fully clothed form searching out for an clue as to the cause of death, hoping that his skill as a doctor hadnt completely gone after nearly three years of disuse.

"So, odd right?" Lestrade said from the otherside of the body while Sherlock knelt before the dead girl, magnifier in hand as he searched her.

"I mean, no markings, no sign of struggle no cuts or wounds of any kind-"

"And yet she has been totally drained of blood."  Sherlock muttered as he stood then turned to John.

"Care to look?"

"Sure." John nodded while giving Sherlock a small smile. As he knelt he felt Sherlock stay close but knew that he was looking around the room searching for more clues.

Leaning forward John ran his already gloved fingers over the girls neck, her face, lifting her hair from her face, inspecting the hairline before moving to the girls wrists turning them to inspect for any punctuation marks then pushed up a sleeve to check the crock of her elbow running his thumb over the cold skin, then frowning.

"Sherlock." He called as he looked at the pad of his thumb then back at the arm.

"What? What have you found?"

"Make up." 

"Not unusual in a girl of this age John."

"In the crook of her elbow." John said running his thumb over the area again this time uncovering a small puncture mark. Smiling he turned to Sherlock who was now crouched next to him.

"Well done John." Sherlock said as his eyes shone with the high of a new, rather baffling case.

"Lestrade, get her to Molly. She needs to be fully cleaned and inspected and I wouldn't trust anyone other than Molly to do the job."

"Right." Lestrade nodded as both John and Sherlock stood. "Any ideas?"

"Not a one." Sherlock said brightly.

Leatrade frowned and looked to John who just shrugged.

"Come on John!" Sherlock suddenly called causing John to turn and run to catch up with him.

"So now what?" John asked pulling the gloves from his hands and throwing them into a bin.

"Now we do what we do best." Sherlock said stopping and turning to face John. "Me and you against the world, right?"

John laughed, "right."

"Then lets go catch us a murder." Sherlock said cheerful causing another chuckle from John as they both left the crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats all folks. Again thank you for all the kudos and comments and bookmarks.
> 
> It has been a pleasure.


End file.
